


Relationship Status

by lokifiction



Category: Loki (Marvel) - Fandom, The Avengers
Genre: (hopefully) not your typical redemption fic, F/M, Fluff, Gen, a small amount of angst, mainly very lighthearted, ofc is a ballet dancer so expect to learn a lot about the ballet world, would be comedy but i'm not funny enough
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-12
Updated: 2018-09-07
Packaged: 2018-12-27 06:57:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 76,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12075864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lokifiction/pseuds/lokifiction
Summary: It’s really no secret that the Avengers and Loki aren’t fans of each other, but when a seemingly invincible common enemy looms ahead, it is necessary that they learn to get along. However, it soon becomes quite clear that this will be no simple task.





	1. Chidings and Chinese Food

A quiet but sure knock sounded on my dressing room door just as I was applying my last layer of lipstick, the finishing touch to my elegant stage makeup.

"Come in, Loki," I called, placing the tube back on my neatly arranged dressing table, the worn surface gleaming orange in the light radiating from the bright bulbs lining my mirror. Pushing back one of my eyeshadow palettes so that it was angled just so, I reached out and detangled my large yet delicate Sugarplum Fairy headpiece from the bust I had bought for keeping costume pieces such as that safe from the events of my chaotic days.

"How did you know it was me?" Loki inquired coyly as he entered, stepping up behind my chair with a slight smirk to administer a pre-performance massage, locking eyes with me in the mirror.

"You're the only non-staff member that would be able to get back here once the show started," I replied in an equal tone, cocking an eyebrow, straining my ears so that I could just barely make out the famed Nutcracker March resonating throughout the theatre. Teeth grinding together in excitement to be on the stage but also to have the seemingly endless Nutcracker season over with, I passed Loki the beautiful silver tiara, encrusted with faux amethysts, and a package of pins. "Help me?"

Loki collected the trinkets from my hands and around my thick bun began to secure the headpiece, focused intently on the task, the shine from the rhinestones creating an intricate pattern on the wall of the darkened room.

"Did Thor find his seat alright?" I inquired, glancing at the many pictures I had tacked all along my mirror, displaying nearly everything I had done in my life since I joined the ballet company when I was eighteen.

"Of course he did, and he's ecstatic to be here." Loki rolled his eyes, huffing good-naturedly. "You know that this is his favorite ballet."

"Well, then, he's obviously never endured it from the dancer’s perspective. After forty shows, it’s not quite as magical anymore,” I teased as Loki finished with the tiara, pulling myself to my feet and fluffing the blush-colored tutu about my waist until it no longer showed any evidence of being smashed by the back of a chair. After observing myself in the mirror, tugging at the corseted bodice until it rested comfortably on my ribs, I pulled a sweater on over my head, grabbing my newly sewn pointe shoes and gesturing for Loki to follow me as I made my way to the elevator.

When we reached the our floor, the music for the fight between the Mouse King and Nutcracker's army propelled us down the long hallway, and I broke into a slight jog even though I had the rest of the Act I and intermission before I made my first entrance. I simply couldn't help it. Once the adrenaline began its course through my veins, it was nearly impossible to subdue.

I reached the backstage door bounds ahead of Loki, and I flashed him a jokingly gloating look before turning the handle slowly, entering as quietly as I could so not to ruin the audience's moment as the pas de deux between Clara and the Nutcracker began. Maneuvering my way around a mass of props and changing sets, I approached the first wing where my best friend in the company, Chantel, prepared for her entrance as Snow Queen, rubbing her arm and whispering a quick "Merde," in her ear. She grinned and said the same, and I blew her a quick kiss as I looped behind all the wings to make my way to stage left, holding my tutu up at the sides and walking slowly to leave the backdrop undisturbed.

When I finally reached the correct side of the stage, I headed straight for the ancient set of worn metal barres that were lined up as far away from the wings as possible, put there so that the company members could give themselves an adequate warmup before performing. A few corps members and the soloist dancing Dewdrop had already staked their claim on the best spots, so I made my way to the barre that lined up with the very first curtain marking the wings, propping my leg up on the thick rod and watching Loki as he studied the stage, analyzing the scene playing out with an eye as critical as any dancer or director.

Ever since my first performance with the company, when I was utterly concealed in the very back row of the corps, Loki had insisted on coming to every show I danced unless he was absolutely unable to. For big premieres, he sat in the best seat in the theatre, but always hurried back after my curtain call with a giant bouquet of flowers and a small present. During particularly chaotic nights, he found haven in the flies, watching me from above and avoiding the traffic jam that often played out behind the scenes. But most of the time, he resided backstage, right in the wing where I would make my exit. Because of this, he became as well known in the company as I was, causing him to have to cast a spell over my coworkers so that they make no correlation between the god that attempted to take over the world through their city and my fiancé.

At first I would get in trouble for him being backstage, but after about two weeks the stage manager decided that there was no reason for complaint. Loki never made a single sound, stayed out of the way of dancers and stage crew, and occasionally helped out when things went awry, not to mention the fact that his presence often made my performance bounds better. After those things were realized, and Loki applied a bit of his silver tongue, it was decided that he could stay.

"One of the corps girls was late on all of her entrances," he eventually declared, striding back over to me as the music built, signaling the end of the act approaching. "But that new apprentice is doing much better than I expected."

I chuckled deep in my throat, using his scarf to pull him down for a chaste kiss.

"What?" he whined against my lips defensively, momentarily pulling back to rub away the pink hue that my makeup left about his mouth and chin.

"Loki Laufeyson, the ballet critic," I giggled, pecking him once more before forcing myself to pull away as the curtain fell and stage lights clicked on for intermission, stepping aside as the stampede of exiting dancers charged in our direction. When the cramped area was once again relatively clear, I dropped to the floor and slid on my pointe shoes, pulling Loki along behind me as I stepped onto the stage where dancers in Act II currently gathered, rehearsing particularly difficult sets before they went on, instructing him to watch one of the notoriously complicated sections from my variation and give me feedback. However, before I could even execute the first four counts, my partner for the night, Damien, tapped me on the shoulder and asked if we could go over our final lifts. Begrudgingly I decided it was best to agree, seeing that I didn’t enjoy being jerked around like a plane in turbulence onstage, and as Damien took my waist, Loki's jaw clenched with a jealousy that only came about when he watched me rehearse. 

When the manager finally called to clear stage and Damien strutted over the opposite side, I threw my arms around Loki's neck, kissing a spot just below his jaw.

"Lo, you know I'm all yours," I whispered huskily.

"I do. I just want to make sure it stays that way." He swatted at my backside lightly, causing me to have to muffle a squeal in his shirt. However, once I recovered from the giddiness that the action brought over me, I cast him a dubious look as I lowered myself onto the floor once more to sew myself into my shoes.

“Really?” I scoffed. “Do you really think I’d leave you for Damien?”

“I don’t know,” Lo played along. “You do often pretend to be in love with him in front of thousands of people.”

“And you know full well I can barely get through those pas de deuxs without vomiting.” Securing the knots on my ribbons, I stood up and placed my hand on Loki’s chest. “Besides, why would I need anyone else when the God of Mischief is all mine?”

“Don’t get cocky,” Loki scolded, feigning an expression of reprimand.

I stuck my tongue out as the final word, and then composed myself. “We’ll have to save the rest of this conversation for later. I need to get into Sugarplum mode, and that most definitely does not entail me not even being able to get my leg up because the way I know that conversation will end up going has me excited.”

Loki’s eyes gleamed as he grinned wolfishly, but seeing as my entrance was only sixty-four counts away, he deterred from saying whatever filthy thoughts I knew were running through his head. I shed my sweater and leggings, draping them over the barre for later, then approached him in the wing. Taking my hand in his, he placed a kiss to my palm before sliding my gold-banded engagement ring off my finger, the emerald that toed the line for being obnoxiously big glinting in its bed of diamonds.

That action was one we repeated almost ritualistically before each performance, the tradition tracing back to when Loki and I first got engaged. At the time (and even still), I felt so guilty putting the ring in its box and leaving it in my dressing room during shows when I would step onstage and often pretend to be in love with and marry someone else, but I didn't wish for it to get lost or damaged as my craft was wont to do to jewelry. Loki noticed this, and one night offered to hold it for me when I was onstage, sliding it right back on my finger the moment I came off. It seemed fitting, leaving the ring with him, so it quickly became a habit I was comfortable with.

Loki bent down and kissed me deeply sixteen counts before I was to step onstage.

"I know you'll be enchanting," he whispered against my lips, “as always.”

I giggled girlishly in response, my head still spinning from the kiss, and floated out to meet Damien at center stage. And, with the audience hushed in anticipation and Loki watching me with a proud smile on his face, I cast my gaze up to the glittering balconies and began to dance.

 

When I returned backstage after my final curtain call of the night, I pulled Loki towards me and carted him around as I grabbed my warm ups and hurried back to the haven of my dressing room, trying to escape the hoard of elderly patrons forcing me to accept the compliments I had heard a million times before. I thought I had lost them when my tutu was hung up for the night and I had to fight Loki's greedy kisses as I attempted to slide on my street clothes, but a knock sounded at the door just as he whispered something exceedingly dirty in my ear.

"Down, tiger," I muttered, pulling the hem of my dress to my knees and prying his lips from my neck. "We've got company."

"Tell them to go away," he purred, gripping my hips and preventing me from rising.

"As much as I’d like to do that, you know I can't." I wiggled away and resigned myself to open the door, prepared to participate in mind-numbing conversations that involved nothing but wealthy old socialites tittering about how wonderful the Waltz of the Snowflakes was that night when a familiar face rose from the back of the queue.

"Might I come in?”" Thor boomed over the din, and upon my nod, pushed his way through the patrons, muttering his apologies to those he bumped into.

"You are my absolute savior right now,” I exalted gratefully, vaguely motioning towards the group of people I would now not have to speak to, and he awarded me with a small bow when he reached the front of the cluster.

"To express my gratitude to you for allowing me to see such an entertaining performance," he announced as he passed me a bouquet of festive poinsettias. I closed my hand around the stems, burying my nose in the fragrant petals.

"Thank you so much," I beamed, then cast my attention to the expectant admirers behind him. After requesting that they give me a moment of privacy, I ushered Thor into the dressing room and locked the door behind him.

"So, you got here alright?" I placed the flowers down by my bag so that I would remember to take them home, performing a mental inventory for a vase that could be used.  
"I did," Thor answered in a proud tone, then spotted Loki. "Brother. It’s been quite some time."

"Hello, Thor,” Loki greeted, much politer than I was expecting him to be. “Are you enjoying New York?"

"I always do. And I cannot wait to see your home." Thor's face was radiant with boyish excitement. Despite his maturing in the past few years, any opportunity to visit with his newly redeemed brother without conflict still brought out a childish side of him.

"So, dinner's still on, then?" I confirmed. "That Chinese place okay?"

"Better than okay," Thor assured.

"Good. Loki and I are going to place the order once we get out of here. Do you want what you had last time?"

"Aye," Thor replied, and I made a mental note to add two large orders of extra spicy Tso chicken to the list.

"We look forward to seeing you in a moment, brother." Loki approached from gathering our things to join the conversation, handing me my purse. "But as of now, Camryn and I had better be going."

“Wait, what?” Befuddled, I turned to Loki, drawing my brows together. “I thought we were all going to take the train together.”

“We were, but something came up that we have to attend to, remember?”

“And what might that be?”

Before Loki could further his lie, Thor broke up our light banter.

“Don’t fret, Camryn. I assure you that I don’t mind in the slightest. If you and Loki have business to attend to, I can take a cab.”

“Well, if you’re sure,” I tutted. "You remember the address, right?"

Thor recited it back to me perfectly, but Loki, undoubtedly punishing me for not letting him take me on the sofa with a crowd behind the door, began to pull one of his infamous pranks.

“Actually, Thor, our address is…” As Loki rattled off a false correction, I attempted to protest, but was silenced by a quick spell as Loki changed the street name to one completely across town. The enchantment still held as he sent Thor on his way, opening the door for him and watching as he entered the crowd heading for the exits before guiding me down the back way out of the theatre. We stepped out onto the street and hailed a cab in no time, Loki directing the driver as he lifted the charm so that I could place our dinner order.

"You are so damn mean!” I squealed, drawing a dubious look from the cabbie.

"What? It was just a bit of fun!” Loki protested with a slightly lopsided grin.

"Loki! He’ll never make it to the apartment.”

"Yes, darling, that’s the point,” he reminded with exaggerated animation in his face. "Admit it. You think it's hilarious, too."

I remained adamant, crossing my arms over my chest and turning my nose away. “That was very cruel and I am quite angry with you,” I managed to muster up with dignity.

"Well, then, let me make it up to you." Teasingly, Loki slid closer to me, running his hand up my thigh with exaggerated motions and a comically “seductive” facial expression.

"No, I'm mad at you! You're not nice," I simpered, trying and failing to suppress my giggles. Though, a lesson I should have learned by now was that nothing ever escaped Loki’s attention, and drew a grin out of me with only a few kisses.

"Oh, stop it." I pushed him out of the car when the driver pulled up to our building, kicking a bit of snow up towards his backside with the toe of my boot. "You're being punished."

"Ooh. I’m quite excited to see where this will lead." Loki nipped at my earlobe as I trudged through the muddy slush to the front door of our building, and as much as I hated to do so, I shrugged him off.

"Not like that," I promised in a scolding tone, stepping into the elevator and stabbing the button that would take us to the top floor, all of which was our lovely penthouse.

Sometimes I felt as if Loki thought of spoiling me as some sort of sport. If I ever made even the slightest mention of wanting something, it would show up the next day, which is why I had refrained from telling him my burning desire to have children. As much as I wanted them, I wasn’t ready for them quite yet.

Most ballet dancers, even the famous ones, aren’t wealthy in the slightest. Though our lives onstage seem glamorous, we most definitely don’t live in the lap of luxury, and a lot of the time, simple expenses are a struggle to afford. Nevertheless, ever since I decided I wanted to go to New York, I dreamt of a gorgeous, luxury penthouse in the Upper East Side, knowing full well that it was impossible. However, when I revealed that to Loki as a joke one day, I woke up the next morning in just that, and he only kept going from there. I thought that glass walls would look nice in certain areas of the house? Done with a snap of his fingers. I teased at wanting an indoor pool? There the very next day. Every amenity I could possibly dream of was added on without me ever having to open my mouth.

I had the best fiancé ever, though I supposed it helped that he was raised in a palace and had a very high standard of living that a typical New York apartment would most definitely not meet.

One of the features of the penthouse was having our own private elevator landing, and when we reached it I wasted no time in descending into the living room, making for the couch and plopping down to wait for our food. That area happened to be one with transparent walls, so I lazily watched the buzzing action of the city below as Loki poured glasses of wine.

"We're going to be waiting all night for your brother, and it's all your fault," I accused as I took a greedy sip, sinking into his torso. “Why do you always insist on making a fool out of him? You know full well that he’s not.”

“You obviously don’t know him like I know him,” Loki chuckled. "If the food arrives before he does, I'll assist him in finding his way."

"It will," I promised, and sure enough, half an hour later, a delivery man knocked on the door and presented us with our obnoxious amounts of takeout.

"So." I dug a crab rangoon out of the bag and bit into it. "Honor your vow."

Loki rolled his eyes, reaching in to grab one for one himself. "Come on, now. Let's just see how long it takes him to figure it out."

"Ah, ah, ah." I pulled the bag out of his reach. "No rangoons until you bring your brother back."

Loki sighed dramatically, as if it physically pained him to conjure someone. With a begrudging snap of his fingers, Thor's pounding knock began to sound on our door. I went to let him in, jutting my tongue out at Loki as he took a huge, most un-prince-like bite from his coveted rangoon.

"I apologize for my tardiness," Thor lamented as he settled himself down in one of our onyx dining room chairs, dwarfing the thing with his massive size.

"It's not your fault," I assured as I shoveled food out onto plates, casting a pointed glance in Loki's direction.

"I know, but I'm sorry all the same." Thor flashed us a sly look. Loki and I sat down opposite him, stealing bites off of one another's plates instead of simply getting what we wanted to try from the kitchen, as usual. “I was raised with Loki. I will, say, he needs to think of some new pranks.”

I giggled at Loki's sneer, dousing a portion of shrimp in sweet and sour sauce. "So, after tonight you're staying with the rest of your team at Stark's?"

"Yes. There is some business to be taken care of." Thor rose, bringing his plate with him, already going for seconds.

"And how are they doing? The Avengers?" I inquired, genuinely interested.

"Very well," he replied. "Actually, they desire to meet you. I speak of you often, and they are very curious to see what the girl who has stolen my brother's heart is like."

"Oh," I exclaimed, taken aback. "Well, I guess we'll have to work out a time to meet, then."

"Actually, there is an opportunity tomorrow," Thor informed. "Stark is hosting a party for New Year's Eve."

"A party?” I echoed, unsure. “I don't know. It would be too crowded and loud to have a conversation with anyone, especially at one of Stark's."

"Actually, he has decided to keep this one small and only invite the team. It would be the perfect opportunity."

"Well, then." I beamed. "It's settled."

"Wait," Loki cut in. "Don't you have a performance tomorrow?"

"No, it's my day off," I reminded.

"What about the day after?"

"Apparently New Year's is a holiday major enough for them to close the theatre. I'm completely free for the next two nights. We'll be there, Thor," I promised.

"I'm not sure that it would be the best idea," Loki muttered.

"Thor, can you give us a moment?" I queried, and upon his nod of approval I stood up and took Loki firmly by the arm, steering him into the kitchen.

"What is your problem?" I hissed at him when we had gained our privacy.

"I don't have a problem," Loki responded bluntly in an equal tone.

"Yes, you do. That party is a great opportunity to get properly acquainted with them for once, and you're being extremely stubborn about it."

"I genuinely don't think that it would be a good idea," he insisted.

"Why? Because you're afraid that they'll team up against you again because they hate you?"

"It’s obvious that they will, is it not?"

"All you've got to do is convince them that you've changed."

"It's not that easy." For the first time in our heated conversation, he tore his emerald gaze away from mine and cast it down towards his shoes.

"Loki, listen." I stepped closer to him and took his face in my hands. "There's going to come a day when you're going to have to team up with these people. Thanos is going to come after you and you're going to need them if you want to win that fight. Now, I'm not asking you to become best friends forever, but at least get on good terms with them."

Loki grimaced, realizing that he had lost the argument. "I haven't a choice, have I?"

I shook my head, mustering up a sympathetic but stern expression. "Nope."


	2. Petty Preparations

After putting his things in the guest room and returning to join us for drinks, Thor let out a jovial laugh as out of the bedroom stalked Loki’s and my cats: snobbish and unbelievably fluffy Sir Henry and sweet ebony Bellatrix. He promptly knelt down to greet them, dwarfing their figures with his large hands. Bella took her attention happily, butting her delicate head into his broad palm, but Henry simply flicked his tail and came to rub against my ankles until I relented and scooped him up into my arms.

Thor’s features contorted into a frown as he rose to his full height. Bellatrix, ever the daredevil, had crawled upon his shoulder and was now attempting to position herself atop his head, making for quite a comical sight as he began to speak, completely unfazed.

“What have I done to cause Sir Henry to dislike me?”

"Oh, nothing. Henry doesn't let anyone besides me or Loki touch him, so it’s not personal," I assured, bouncing the cat on my hip a bit. "Isn't that right, Hen?"

“I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. The feline’s attitude towards me is parallel to someone else we both know and love.” Thor cast a pointed glance at Loki.

As I cackled with laughter at the truth behind the joke and the cleverness in its delivery, Loki’s response was to huff and roll his eyes melodramatically.

“If you two want drinks tonight, you’d best stop poking fun at me,” he pouted.

“We’re not poking fun, just stating a truth about you. It’s not as if it’s a character trait you particularly dislike.” Before Loki could even think about bringing truth to his threat, I reached over and seized the wine bottle he produced barely after he let go of it, filling glasses for Thor and myself.

“I let you do that,” he insisted, nodding towards the snatched wine as I stared at him smugly. My only reply was to cock a dubious eyebrow and grin broadly before addressing our guest.

"So, Thor," I began, swilling the burgundy liquid about my glass. "How's Jane doing?"

"She’s very well," he replied, face brightening at the mention of his wife. "She took the opportunity of my absence to visit and spend time with her mother."

"That's good.” I took in a small sip of wine as Loki came out from behind the bar to lounge on the stool behind me, looping his arm around my shoulders possessively. "What's the 'business' the team called you out here for?"

"Just a number of potential threats to discuss so that we may dispel or be on the lookout for them. None are serious enough to worry over."

"I didn't think so, else you wouldn't have made this detour,” I concurred. “And Stark wouldn’t be throwing that party, either.”

At the mention of the event, Loki stiffened beside me and inhaled sharply. Placing my hand on his thigh to calm him, I attempted to stay his nerves with my next question. 

“Are you absolutely sure we’ll be welcome there?”

“Of course. It was they who asked me to invite you,” Thor reminded.

“And that’s not because they’re planning to play a huge joke on us?”

“I would never permit them to do such a thing.” Thor seemed appalled at the notion. “What gives you the idea that they would do such a thing?”

“Lo’s and my childhood bullies made certain that we’d always have to check for tricks before agreeing to anything.” I glanced up at my fiancé over my shoulder. “Does that make you feel better?”

Loki, ever the stubborn one, pursed his lips and averted his gaze. “Not exactly.”

***

Twenty hours later, we'd spent the rest of the night and the next day lounging around the apartment with Thor: watching movies, having heated discussions about them afterward, and competing against each other in board and video games, seen him off in a taxi headed for Stark's place, and begun our preparations for the party. I had been perched at my vintage vanity for what seemed to be hours, fretting over making myself as presentable as possible, my golden party dress hanging open as I clasped on a coordinating necklace and buckled my shoes.

"Loki, could you zip me up?" I requested, rising from my cushioned bench and stepping over to where he slouched on the bed.

He sighed heavily as he did so, rising from the carefully folded blankets. "Are you certain it's obligatory for us to go to this celebration?" He muttered, fastening the clasp.

I flashed him a scolding look as I clipped a stylish cuff to my unpierced ear. "Do you remember any of what we talked about before?"

"Yes, but you must know that this event will be miserable for me, despite what Thor has promised of their behavior."

"Maybe, maybe not." I turned to face Loki, resting my hands on his shoulders, my heeled shoes putting me at just the right height to brush my lips against his. "Listen, if this party doesn't turn out, if a fight starts or they're absolutely awful to you, we'll leave right away, okay? We can come back here and celebrate New Year's Eve how we usually do on years I don't have a performance: with a bottle of champagne, the last few Christmas specials on TV, and a giant box of cupcakes. I promise. But at least try to have a good attitude, and see where it leads."

After a lengthy period of thought and a drawn-out sigh, Loki finally spoke. "For you, and only for you," was his reluctant reply. Gratefully, I grinned and placed a kiss to his cheek in thanks.

"We'd better get going, then. Thor never told us a time, but I don't believe that being 'fashionably late' would be our best bet in this situation." I slid my tawny coat on over my shoulders and quickly fastened the buttons, grabbing my clutch and straightening Loki’s tie before leading the way into our circular foyer, pressing my recently manicured nail to the button that summoned the elevator. When the metallic doors slid open with their usual jovial ping, we were immediately met by elderly and whimsical Mrs. Travers, a generous donor to the ballet and the owner of the second largest apartment in the building, beaten only by mine and Loki’s.

"There's my favorite prima ballerina!" She exclaimed in a faux British accent as Loki and I entered the lift, scurrying over to kiss both of my cheeks with wet, wrinkled lips. "When your floor lit up, I was hoping I'd see you. It's been too long!"

"Not since this year's Nutcracker Ball, Mrs. Travers. I think that this season's was the best you've hosted since I've been in the company," I replied with nearly matched yet considerably calmer enthusiasm, putting on my "good little ballerina who gets money for the company" act that people in my line of work were essentially forced to have around donors as loyal as Beverly Travers.

"Oh, was it? You're too kind, my dear. Honestly, the party itself paled in comparison to that green brocade gown you wore. I don’t think anyone could have looked any more flawless.” She sighed and adopted a far-off look, no doubt contradicting her statement by imagining a more youthful version of herself in said garment. “But speaking of seasons, a little bird tells me that you’re going to be dancing in Apollo for the upcoming mixed repertoire show. Is that true?"

"I have no idea, Mrs. Travers. The dancers haven't had a glance at new casting since the Bayadere list went up in November. All I know is that I'm dancing the Romeo and Juliet Balcony Pas De Deux at the children’s hospital gala in February."

Mrs.Travers suddenly became so ecstatic that I feared she might begin to wail inconsolably right then and there. "Oh, your Juliet is absolutely beautiful! Timeless!” She dabbed at her eyes with the corner of her ancient fur capelet. “I remember the qualms to be had on whether or not to cast you in that part in the first place. ‘She’s too tall,’ many said. ‘She could never look thirteen.’ But I insisted, I said, ‘Camryn has to dance Juliet. She can do anything, and looking thirteen is most certainly within her abilities.’ And look at you now! It’s one of your most famous roles, isn’t it?" She paused to compose herself, fully taking in my image. "And I say, dear, you look like you're headed for a gala at this very moment!"

I mustered up a modest but thankful smile, silently wondering how much of the story of her involvement in my casting was falsified. "Oh, just a small party. Nothing major."

“Well, it certainly looks like something major."

"You know I take any opportunity to dress up. And you look lovely yourself, Mrs. Travers." No matter how much people such as her seemed to fawn over the accomplishments of someone else, their true passion lied in talking about themselves. Often the members of the ballet company would be informally coached on dealings with donors, and one point heavily reinforced was to keep the conversation as much about them as possible.

"Oh, this is nothing." Mrs. Travers dismissed me with a wave of her spidery hand. "Reggie and I are just going for a few rounds of cards at Dorothy and Barney's."

"And where is Reginald? Is he well?"

"Oh, yes. He's outside, fetching a cab. It's impossible to get one on this particular night of the year, and standing outside in the cold is awful for my health."

"Of course, of course." I nodded as empathetically as possible. After a few merciful moments of silence, the elevator finally reached its destination and I was freed from the mind-numbing conversation as I took Loki’s arm and made for the main entrance of the building.

"Tell Dorothy I said hello." I smiled stiffly as I allowed Mrs. Travers to lead through the gilded glass doors, yet she insisted upon embracing me once more.

"Of course! She'll be ecstatic to hear from you." She called, allowing her husband to help her into the stalling cab. "And tell your directors that they should see a check soon!"

"Anything for you, Mrs. Travers." I raised my hand to summon our own taxi, Loki immediately bursting into laughter once we stepped in and received haven from the bitter cold.

"What's so funny?" I demanded.

"I never knew you were so concerned about Mrs. Travers' personal life," he chortled.

"Oh, you hush. You know it's required of me. Everyone in the company has to contribute to the 'money, money, money,' rage."

"Money, money, money rage," Loki repeated to himself in a whisper, cackling even more, harder than I had seen him do so in a while. Despite my acting at being offended, my heart soared with happiness and hope. Maybe the night wouldn’t be as bad as he openly expected and I secretly feared.

The cab arrived Stark Tower sooner than what we’d been preparing for, and I sucked in a collective breath before paying the driver and approaching the entrance, seizing Loki's hand for reassurance as we pushed through the revolving glass doors into something that appeared more a lobby to an imposing office building than the foyer to somebody's home.

"Where do we go?" I inquired, my voice instinctively dropping to a whisper as the sound of my shoes hitting the pristinely polished floor echoed uncomfortably across the expansive area. There was a reception desk to our right, but not a soul could be spotted anywhere.

"The elevator, I suppose,” Loki replied in an equal decibel, pointing out the set of four lifts lined up on the wall opposite us. I hesitantly pressed the button, and a cool voice filled the area, startling me. Loki had informed me of Stark’s Artificial Intelligence program, but I hadn’t expected it to sound so human.

"Name?" It inquired.

"Uhm..." I fumbled. "C-Camryn? Camryn Potts and Loki Laufeyson."

"Ah, yes. We've been expecting you. I'll notify Mr. Stark that you've arrived." The voice spoke no more, but before its last syllable had finished resounding throughout the space, the lift closest to me and Loki welcomed us inside. 

We didn’t to press a button, for the moment the doors met, the elevator shot upward, nervously clutching each other’s hands until our pathway out was opened to reveal a tastefully furnished room. The Avengers were lounging lazily on a black wraparound couch that dominated the center of the area with drinks in their hands, halfway watching the many news reports centered around the traditional ball drop, flames from the fireplace in the corner casting warm shadows across their relaxed features.

"May I take your coat, madam?" The AI offered, a coat rack spinning out of the wall. That captured the attention of the superheroes, their gaze snapping to me and Loki.

"Oh, yeah, thank you." I removed my protective sheath and placed it on the hook that was presented, pulling my fiancé closer before stepping over the threshold and immersing myself further into the room.

"You've arrived at last!" Thor mercifully broke the silence, grinning and embracing us in turn, then swiveling about to address the rest of the guests.

"My friends, I believe you know Loki. The lovely woman next to him is Camryn, the one whom you have been very eager to meet."

The room became so silent I expected crickets to be heard at any moment. Yearning for someone to say anything, I chewed my red-stained lip, the knot in my stomach tighter than it was even in the moments before the biggest performances of my career.

A statuesque woman with strawberry blonde hair eventually had the good soul to stand up to greet me, completely ignoring Loki as she leaned in for a friendly hug.

"I've heard so much about you!" She stated, beaming. "I'm Pepper."

"It’s so good to meet you." I tucked a stray lock of hair back into my artfully twisted bun, praying I wasn’t coming across as awkwardly as I felt.

"Would you like a drink?" She offered.

"Only if it’s not too much trouble.”

“Oh, not at all. Is champagne okay?”

Upon my approval, Pepper hurried into another room to fetch it,then handed it to me before returning to her perch on the back of the sofa, obviously expecting someone else to pick up the string of conversation. No one chose to, and the crushing silence resumed, each and every eye intent on glaring at the man by my side.


	3. Truth or Dare

Loki cleared his throat loudly, obviously trying to prove his point to me. My face growing hot, I stared down at my shoes, wiggling toes and praying for the situation to resolve itself.

"Er, brother," Thor finally interjected, catching onto our distress. "Perhaps we should step into the next room and get you a drink."

I felt Loki’s body momentarily sag in relief before he was led away, and suddenly I was left to face the pack of wolves alone. But instead of continuing to critically assess me with their stony expressions, they each broke into wide, welcoming smiles. A man I recognized as Tony Stark rose from his perch on the arm of the leather sofa to approach me, extending his hand for a firm shake.

"So you're the famous Camryn," he remarked. "I've got to say, I pictured you shorter."

"Oh." I allowed myself to giggle slightly. In my heels, I was over half a head taller than he was. "It's just these shoes."

Tony continued to look me up and down. His flirtatious nature was evident in the expression on his face, and even though I knew he would never press any advances on me, especially when in a committed relationship, I recognized that it was a good thing that Loki wasn’t present at that moment, for he would not at all be pleased with the way Tony was taking me in. “Thor tells us that you’re a ballerina.”

"That’s correct."

"He also tells us that we’ll have a second hulk on our hands if we insult or demean ballet or Loki in any way."

I chuckled a bit, feeling my face go hot. “That’s also true.”

“Honesty. I like that.” Tony nodded in approval, wagging a finger at me before returning to his seat. “Well, you’ve passed my test. Who’s next?”

“Oh, stop it.” Pepper smacked him lightly on the arm. “She didn’t come here to get the third degree.”

“Why don’t you come sit over here, Camryn." A blond man with a muscular physique to rival Thor’s patted the empty cushion space next to him, scooting to the side in order to provide me with more room. "I'm Steve."

"I would introduce myself, as well, but I’m sure you already know who I am,” I teased, my attempt at a joke feeling painfully awkward. The group had the good heart to engage in a small smattering of light laughter, though it sputtered out quickly and the blanket of tension was once again draped over us. Praying for Loki to return, I averted my gaze and attention to straightening the skirt of my dress.

"So, since it seems that no one else will, I’ll ask the million-dollar question," Tony began, swilling a rich brown liquid about the glass in his hand. "How did you and Reindeer Games end up together?"

"Oh, I don't really think you want to know." I took a sip from my flute of champagne. "The situation of us getting together, uh... sounds a lot weirder than it actually is."

"Oh, I think we can handle it," Stark encouraged. “We specialize in weird.”

“Besides,” a man I recognized from photos as Clint Barton put in, a teenagerish eagerness tinging his voice, “you commented on it in the first place, so now you have to give up the rest.”

“I’m going to regret this,” I muttered under my breath before trailing off, searching for the right words so that they could in no way twist what I said into something to be used against Loki’s character.

"Loki had been watching over me from Asgard for a while due to a vision his mother had shown him of his future. That was during a particularly dark time for him, brought on by Thor being announced as heir to the throne instead of Loki. His mother thought that showing him all of the amazing things to come in his life would prevent him from giving up on himself.

“Those things happened to heavily feature an older version of me, which definitely sparked Loki’s interest, wondering who the woman prophesied to become his wife was.   
Eventually, he and his mother began to induce dreams of him into my mind to give me knowledge of his presence so that I wouldn’t be completely confused when the time came for us to meet. Those dreams caused me to fall in love with him- or at least the idea of him. He soon fell in love with the idea of me as well, and one day he began to start coming down to Midgard to visit and get to know me, first as a guardian sort of figure, when I was younger, and once he deemed me old enough he finally explained everything to me, and our romantic relationship took off from there. The older I got the more he visited and the more we fell in love, and when I turned eighteen we started living together."

“Interesting,” Stark remarked, pursing his lips and nodding his head from side to side. “A bit cliché romance novel-y, maybe, but I have to admit, from what we’ve heard, you guys make it work.”

My thanks was accompanied by a nervous giggle as the conversation sputtered out once more, the only sound emitting from the muddled chatter of the television.

The silence was suddenly broken by a rich yet soft voice addressing me. 

"You're a great dancer, you know,” it said, and when scanning the area for its source I turned to discover Natasha Romanoff staring me straight in the eye, gaze unwavering.

"I- I didn't think you followed ballet," was the only stupid phrase I managed to push out of my mouth, dumbfounded that someone with a reputation such as hers would openly give me a compliment, feeling every gaze in the room intently fixed on us. I could sense them all bursting with impatience to discover how our interaction would turn out, and I felt more a player in a sports event than one simply having a conversation.

"I usually don't. It reminds me too much of memories and a version of myself I’ve spent years trying to bury,” Natasha explained bluntly. “But, on the rare occasions that I do, I choose to watch you."

"Wow." I stared down at my glass, tapping the rim with my nails, unsure of what else to say. "Thank you."

Thor and Loki choose that opportune moment to return, drinks in hand, appearing as if they had already downed a few in their absence. Loki spotted me and I motioned for him to take a seat next to mine, though there was not much room left and my offer resulted in me sitting almost completely on his lap. However, neither of us minded. Even though his presence only made the tension in the room worse, I felt safer with him by my side.

"Are you alright?" He whispered in my ear, interlacing his pleasantly cool fingers through mine. The action was something he often did when he was nervous, though he was not wont to outwardly admit that I was just as much his security blanket as he was mine.

"I suppose I can’t complain," I replied in an equal volume. "You?"

"We'll see."

The AI system suddenly spoke again, causing me and several others to jump, everyone having been so fixated on attempting to produce a topic of conversation.

"Mr. Stark," it informed, "Bruce Banner has arrived."

"Finally," Tony huffed. "Thanks, JARVIS."

"My pleasure," the voice replied, and the elevator doors opened to reveal a slightly hunched, smallish man with tousled brown hair brushing a dusting of snow off of his battered coat.

"It's about time!" Tony boomed, standing to greet the man.

"Uh, yeah, sorry." The newcomer adjusted his wire-rimmed glasses, draping his jacket and scarf over a hook. "I got caught up in something at the lab and lost track of the time."

"Well, better late than never. I was starting to worry that you’d found some people that you thought would be better than us and we'd have to stage an intervention." Stark turned to address me once more. "Bruce, Camryn, Camryn, Bruce."

"Hi." I waved from my seat and he responded with a tight-lipped smile, halfway nervous and halfway hateful gaze glued on Loki. Taking that expression and the similar ones of everyone else into account, I frowned once Bruce and Tony were settled, twirling my engagement ring round and round my finger.

"What's wrong, twinkle toes?" Stark questioned, draining his glass. I sucked in a sharp breath, slightly swaying from side to side, my expression morphing into a cross between a smirk and a grimace as I searched for the correct words. As I did so, my anger overcame my social anxiety, and in a sudden burst of emotion I spat out what was really on my mind.

"I should ask you the same question." A shadow of confusion passed over the expressions of the group, and I pushed myself to my feet despite Loki’s quiet attempts to stay me. "Stop balking at my fiancé like he's going to explode!"

"I... don’t understand," Steve dared to speak up.

"Stop acting like at any moment he's going to pull out his goddamn scepter and blow you all to bits," I continued to rage. "Can't you accept that he's different now? He wouldn't be here if he wasn’t. You've all changed quite dramatically since the Battle of New York, so why can't he?"

"Camryn." Loki caught my wrist, giving it a slight tug in encouragement for me to sit down. "It's alright, really."

"No, it isn't. This needs to be said." I pulled away, glancing at him in earnest, silently pleading with him to let me continue before I went on to finish my speech. "I'm going to tell you all exactly what I told Loki. There will come a day when you will all have to come together to defeat an enemy far too powerful for either party to handle on its own. If you can’t get over your vendettas and grudges and work with each other, you will never win that fight. To be a team, you need to be on good terms, and if you’re ever going to achieve that in time, I suggest you start now."

Nose jutted high in the air, I sauntered over to the next room, an involuntary smile of pride creeping across my lips. I passed out of the living area into the adjoining room and refilled my glass at the bar, pressing my ear to the closed mahogany door in the hopes of catching bits and pieces of the hesitant, careful small talk being made as a result of my efforts.

It wasn't much, but it was a start.

***

"I've got to say, Stark, I'm a bit unimpressed," I piped up an hour later. After refreshing my brave attitude with a dose of liquid courage, I had returned to the “party,” finally growing comfortable with my surroundings.

"How do you mean?" He questioned, clearly miffed.

I gestured to the giant television. "I'm in the home of the famous party animal Tony Stark. I had expected that we would be doing more than just watching the same ball drop we've all seen a million times."

"Alright, I'll play." Stark deposited his constantly refilled glass onto a side table and leaned forward over his knees. "What do you suggest, Angelina Ballerina?"

“A little game should liven things up very quickly,” I declared. “Truth or dare, anyone?”

“And you think I’m the boring one,” he scoffed, rolling his eyes.

“Oh, come on, don’t be so quick to judge,” I argued. “Maybe it is a bit childish, but you guys are the Avengers. As in superpowers and crazy weaponry and all that jazz. This could really go places.”

“I’m sorry, are we teenage girls at a slumber party?”

“Here, I’ll make you a deal,” I offered. “We play the game for an hour, and if it is as boring as you think will be, Loki and I will leave and let you go back to your TV watching.”

“And if it’s not?”

“You have to treat Loki with the utmost respect from here on out.”

With a shake of hands and Loki muttering in my ear about how this wasn’t a good idea, the deal was sealed. The coffee table before the sofa was pushed away, and the nine of us clambered down into a circle on the plush rug, situated around an empty champagne bottle laying on its side. Suddenly I realized that if we produced any more of those empty bottles, it was likely none of us would remember the bet placed come morning.

“So, how do we play this?” Steve questioned as he crossed his legs, staring down at the bottle gamely.

Natasha glanced over at him in shock, copper hair swaying with the motion. She had not dressed up much for the occasion, wearing simply a pair of slim-fit black jeans and a knit grey boatneck sweater, a small chain necklace shining subtly against the fabric, the charm too small to make out.

“How do you not know what truth or dare is?” she marveled.

“Hey, I was born ninety years ago. You’re the one that’s always teasing me about that fact,” Steve replied defensively.

“Still.” Natasha shifted from sitting on her feet to her hip. “Camryn, do you want to explain, or should I?"

“I’ll do it,” I decided. “So, Steve, truth or dare is pretty self-explanatory. If the mouth of the bottle is facing towards you, you have to call truth or dare, and the person who spun the bottle will ask you a question that you must answer with absolute honesty if you call truth, and if you call dare, you will be given a task that you are obligated to carry out. Then, you spin the bottle and provide the question or dare for the next person it lands on.”

“I never thought I’d say this, but I have to agree with Stark on this one.” Steve pulled a face. “It honestly doesn’t sound all that entertaining.”

“To be completely truthful, it’s not, unless you’re playing with a big group of some very creative people,” I admitted. “But I know for sure that you guys fit into that category perfectly.”

“So, who’s going to spin first?” Natasha leaned forward with contained eagerness, a mischievous smile playing at her full lips.

“Well, since Ms. Ballerina here suggested it, I think she should have the honor.” Stark held his hands out as if presenting me like a prize.

“It is one I accept gladly.” I switched my bracelet from my right wrist to my left, reaching out with my now unburdened hand and sent the bottle spinning with a quick flick, where it wobbled a bit before eventually landing with the nozzle pointed directly at Steve.

“So, truth or dare, Mr. This Game Isn’t Any Fun?” I taunted.

“I’m going to call truth,” Steve replied in an equal tone.

“Hmm, what’s an interesting question for Captain America?” My fingers trailed towards my lips as I adopted a comically pondering pose. “Is it true that you had affairs with quite a few of those USO chorus girls back in the forties?”

Steve’s face went tomato red as he sputtered, clumsily crossing his arms over his broad chest. “That- that’s inappropriate.”

“That’s sort of the point,” Clint interjected. “There’s creepily comprehensive files on every single one of us out there, so sexual things are the only secrets we have left.”

“Well, I’m not answering that.”

“Oh, Steve, where’s your famous honor?” Natasha joined in. “You made a commitment, so you have to give us the one-hundred percent honest truth. Though, judging by this display, I’d say we all already know the answer, so you might as well come out with it.”

“Fine.” Steve cleared his throat, twitching uncomfortably, voice lowering to a whisper. “Yes. But I’m not proud of it.”

The entire room began to howl in drunken laughter, all the while Steve desperately attempted to quiet us, eventually leaving behind his polite demeanor to shout for order, which startled us into immediate silence.

“I’m getting my revenge on whoever this lands on,” he declared with a fiery determination, setting the bottle spinning rapidly until it finally landed on Bruce, the only one of the group that had kept his laughing to a polite minimum.

“Oh, well now I just feel bad,” Steve tutted.

“Don’t. It’s how the game works, and I’m a good sport most of the time.” Bruce pushed his glasses up farther on his nose. “Dare.”

“Be cautious that you don’t unleash the beast, Steven,” Loki spat from beside me before anyone could utter another word. “I’ll not tolerate being treated as its rag doll again.”

“Oh, I forgot about that!” Stark exclaimed, sniggering. “He got you pretty good, didn’t he? Made the job of finding you pretty simple; you were practically glued to that dent in the floor.”

Loki suddenly burst to his feet, causing me to have to jump up to restrain him as he shouted at the group with an anger I had not seen in a very long while.

“In moments you’ll be wishing you hadn’t taken my scepter from me, for that would have delivered a merciful death compared to what I’m going to do to you,” he raged.

“Loki,” I murmured, blocking him from the sight of group with my body and boring my gaze into his jade eyes, placing my hands on his cheeks, his skin warm from anger. “You need to calm down.”

“They are deliberately taunting me,” he hissed, nostrils flaring.

“It’s all in good fun,” I assured. “Why don’t we go into the other room to refresh your drink and cool down a bit?”

So, as Steve kindly condemned Bruce to take the lampshade and wear it as a hat, I led Loki into the next room and sat him down on a bar stool, filling a glass and passing it over.

“I don’t drink whiskey,” he muttered, pushing my hand away.

“I’m sorry it’s not your drink of choice, but right now you need something strong, and I don’t think that Stark has any absinthe laying around.” After convincing him to take it, I searched about the bar for a bit until I found a cloth napkin next to the extra glasses and filled it with ice, pulling Loki’s hair away and draping the makeshift cold-pack around his neck.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered pitifully once the temperature change did its magic, staring up at me with sad eyes to rival those of a puppy’s. “I suppose I’m not doing so well on the patching-things-up front.”

“No, it’s my fault,” I insisted, settling myself down on his lap. “I made a poor choice of an icebreaker.”

“No, that was actually quite clever,” he admitted, allowing himself a small smile. “Why don’t you go return to your game? I’ll join you once I finish my drink.”

I thanked him for his good sportsmanship with a long, gentle kiss, reentering the room to find Stark attempting to jam his entire foot in his mouth.

“Oh, that’s attractive,” I mocked as I returned to my spot, folding my legs under me.

“Oh, you think you could make this any prettier?” Stark taunted, giving up.

“That’s sort of my job,” I reminded him. “Only I haven’t yet come across a choreographer that wants me to put my foot completely in my mouth.”

“Whatever.” Tony reached out to spin the bottle. “I hope this lands on you, so we can see just how pretty our ballerina looks eating her own toes.”

However, Loki chose that moment to return to the circle, and the bottle trembled a bit before pointing directly at his form. The room instantly hushed, and a nervous energy collectively buzzed within the group. Biting my lip, I sent up a silent prayer that the play would end in neither mutilation nor death for anyone.

Loki visibly composed himself, raising his gaze to meet Stark’s. “I choose dare.”

Stark opened his mouth for another japing yet provoking comment, but when I flashed him a wary look, his lips snapped shut at once as he thought on a dare safe to task Loki with.

He did not choose wisely, but it was not handled as badly as I feared.

“I want to learn more about this little relationship here,” he decided, pointing two fingers at me and Loki.

“What could you possibly have me do that has anything to do with that?” Loki’s hand snapped to mine where it supported my position on the floor, closing over it protectively.

“I dare you to strip your dame to her pretty underclothes in front of all of us.”

“You’re such a pervert.” I snorted.

“What kind of dare is that?” Pepper’s brow furrowed as she glanced at Tony with an expression that bore a combination of scolding and expectancy.

“A dare he has to follow up on,” Tony defended. “And I’m not a pervert, I just want to see the chemistry between these two… exploding things.”

“Do you honestly think I’m going to make way for that sort of speculation of the body of my future wife?” Loki interrogated, subtly inching forward and sideways so that his form partially concealed mine.

“Hey, you as well as signed a verbal contract when you called dare.” Tony held his hands up by his shoulders. “Unless you want to get attorneys involved, get to stripping.”

“You might as well,” I comforted Loki as he once again raised his voice to protest. “You get to spin next time, and we can get back at him.”

“Very well. I suppose you’ve been onstage in similar attire and in more revealing colors.” He leaned inwards until his lips were right up against my ear and his silky hair brushed my shoulder, his next words obviously meant for the utmost secrecy. “Are your breasts properly covered?”

“I’m not wearing a bra, if that’s what you mean,” I replied.

“Why not?” Lo hissed, eyes wide.

“I hardly ever wear them, you know that. I haven’t got enough for it to be necessary.” I chewed my lip anxiously. While modesty had no place in a dancer’s dressing room and I was quite the exhibitionist when it came to Loki, I didn’t enjoy the idea of showing an entire room of new acquaintances some of my most intimate parts.

“I suppose we’ll have to remedy that.” Loki’s palm pressed against my back, and suddenly I felt a tight, flattening, and highly concealing garment confining my chest.

“Cheater,” I teased, though I was enormously relieved.

“I’m simply protecting you as I always do.”

“Why are you two chit-chatting?” Stark interjected. “You have a dare to complete.”

Loki, always one for show, ripped apart the zipper of my dress with a single swift motion. “Is that satisfactory?”

“I hope that dress wasn’t one of your favorites.” Pepper leaned towards me to observe the damage, grimacing slightly, eyes wide in shock at what just occurred. “The zipper is busted;. It’s most likely ruined.”

“Oh, it’s not,” I assured, flashing Loki a wanton grin. “This isn’t the first time this has happened.”

“Now that’s what I’m looking for!” Tony exclaimed, clapping his hands boisterously.

“Why are you so interested in the sex life of others?” I shimmied out of the dress and tossed it aside, now in a very basic and un-sexy strapless bra and flesh-toned boy short style underwear, thanks to Loki’s changes.

“It helps me read people. I can decide if I like you or not.”

“Excuses, excuses.” I clicked my tongue, turning to Loki. “Your turn, dear.”

A familiar bright gleam came into Loki’s eyes, bringing me the utmost certainty that his magic had come into play when the bottle went right around to point at Tony, and especially so when our host called dare.

“Stark, I dare you to strip down as you did to Camryn,” he instructed. “Except you don’t get the luxury of underclothes.”

“How do you expect me to cover up, then?”

“You’re a creative man.”

After Stark was scarlet in the face with a miniature Christmas tree tucked between his legs, the game continued down its sexual path until everyone was some form of naked, many makeouts had occurred (including Pepper and Natasha and Tony and Clint), and many interesting kinks, fetishes, and experiences had been revealed. We learned that as a teenager Thor had referred to his you-know-what the Mightier Mjolnir, Natasha openly admitted experimenting with women, Bruce revealed that he had actually been quite the playboy at university, and Steve told of how he actually had his first kiss was a drunken with Bucky Barnes.

“Well, this is a side of you guys I never thought I’d see,” I giggled, the champagne completely clouding my head at that point. “Oh, and look at that, it’s almost midnight. It seems my game wasn’t such a boring idea after all.”

“And it’s almost the new year,” Stark slurred. “What a way to ring it in.”

“Tony, your tree is falling.” Pepper straightened the flimsy plastic, pulling her long cardigan tighter around her chest, the only scrap of fabric on her lean form thanks to dares from Tony.

“Stark, you gave me an idea,” I announced. “I propose a dare for the entire group.”

“And what is this idea I so brilliantly gave you?” Tony asked drowsily.

“Everyone has to say whom from this circle they’ve ever had a dirty dream about and that’s who they’ll kiss when the ball drops.”

Everyone immediately reddened even more than they already were, averting their eyes, searching for a way out of the deal until I discovered a flaw in my plans.

“Oh, damn. We have an odd number of people,” I pouted. “Guess that won’t work.”

Stark went to exclaim in relief, but Thor soon became the savior of my evil plot.

“I’ll leave the group and even the numbers for you,” he offered. “I don’t believe I’ve ever dreamt of anyone here in a lustful way, and even if I had, I think that kissing any one of them would be disrespectful to Jane. Besides, your proposition is a sight I very much want to be witness to."

“You’re supposed to be on our side, here!” Stark whined.

“Oh, hush. Spit your person out,” I ordered. “Go on.”

Tony sheepishly inched over to Steve, whose eyes went alarmingly wide.

“This is a time where I wish I could get drunk,” Steve muttered, fidgeting noticeably.

“Don’t worry,” Natasha assured as she crawled across the circle towards Clint, surprising no one. “We won’t tease you about this. Much.”

“Ten more seconds!” I hollered out in order to urge people to hurry in finding their partners, and when the ball dropped on the television across the room, Pepper bestowed a small peck on Bruce’s cheek, Tony awkwardly smashed his lips against Steve’s and left them there for barely a second before yanking away with a sharp gagging noise, and Natasha paired with Clint rivaled me and Loki for the longest, most passionate kiss of the night as the rest of the group applauded, hooting.

"Tonight wasn't as bad as you thought, was it?" I questioned Loki as I pulled away.

"It could've been worse," he halfway agreed, and as I leaned into him in for more, I knew that it was a New Year's Eve party I will not soon forget, and that even though everyone’s personality was blurred by drink and we would most definitely not still be this close in the morning, in a few short hours over nothing but a clichéd game, I had made connections for life, one way or another.

***

Two days later, I was back in the theatre after the final performance of Nutcracker, attempting to both wiggle out of my costume and help Loki pack my dressing room up so that it could be cleaned over the company’s two week break between seasons. My friend Chantel had joined us, seeing as her dressing room was already bare, complaining about casting and how much she was going to miss us.

“It’s not like you can’t visit,” I assured. “And besides, you’re one of my bridesmaids. My maid of honor isn’t here, so you have to help me with wedding stuff. In fact, you’ll probably be sick and tired of me by the end of break.”

“Sorry to interrupt,” Loki put in, my overflowing theatre case in hand, “but I’m going to go down and get us a cab. Would you like me to take your tutu down to the costume shop on my way?”

"You're too good to me." I passed over the garment and kissed his jaw as he left, promising to meet him outside as I pulled on a pair of baggy grey sweatpants and an oversized souvenir sweatshirt from last year's tour in Spain, entirely too exhausted to worry about dressing up.

"What’s the plan for the bridesmaids’ dress shopping, anyway?” Chantel asked, bringing the conversation back to its original course. “The wedding is in a few months; we should probably get that done.”

"Well," I replied, "I'm going to fly my sister and my maid of honor to New York later this month or in early February, whenever their schedule allows, and I’m going to make an appointment at the salon on yours and my day off."

"I still can't believe you don't have your own dress yet," Chantel continued. "What kind of bride gets her bridesmaids' dresses before hers?"

Little did Chantel know, Loki and I would truly be married with the grandiose and pageantry of a traditional ceremony on Asgard, planned around the Allfather’s cycle of the Odinsleep so that Odin would not be conscious during the event. Afterward, we would return to Midgard before we set off to our honeymoon for a more common ceremony to please my family members. The latter was the event we referred to when we spoke of wedding planning, for with our ceremony on Asgard we needed only ask for something to be installed in the plans with no qualms about payment or availability. The reason why I didn't have my dress yet was because Loki and I were waiting for a time when it was safe to travel to Asgard to commission it, but for confidentiality reasons I could not tell anyone but my closest family that.

I chuckled slightly, pursing my lips and shrugging theatrically, responding to Chantel’s previous comment with the overused trope of: "I guess I'm just not your average bride.”

If only people knew just how deep that truth went.


	4. Unlikely Bumps

“I never know what to do with myself over break,” I muttered, tossing a wedding magazine down onto the duvet, the hour it had halfway held my attention long over. “I have that appointment this afternoon to get my dress for the gala fitted, but what to do with the time before that is a mystery.”

“Well, it’s a new year.” Loki shrugged, retrieving the magazine and turning to one of my dog-eared selections, pointing out a photo. “I fancy this centerpiece.”

“What do you mean, ‘it’s a new year’?” I snatched the glossy pages back.

“You remember our tradition.” He wrestled them out of my hands and placed the now-crumpled catalogue on his bedside table.

“Yeah, but which one?” I jested, rolling over onto my stomach so that I was just inches away from straddling him. “We only have about a thousand.”

“The new year means an entirely new collection of seasons in your company.”

“Go on,” I urged.

“I can’t believe you haven’t figured it out yet,” Loki chuckled. “Don’t you remember? Ever since you’ve been in the company, after the new year, I’ve gone and taken you to purchase an entirely new plethora of dance items: leotards, stage makeup, practice tutus, warm-ups, everything, as a late Christmas present.”

“Oh, I forgot about that!” I exclaimed, bolting upright. “Are we going to do that this morning?”

“No, I just reminded you because I thought it would be amusing.”

“Oh, hush up.” I swatted at him with a sweater I had removed before drifting off to sleep the night before, rising from the bed and stepping over to the closet. “I guess we’d better start getting ready, then. This shopping trip is always a long one, and I have to meet Jean at 3.”

As I bundled myself up in my coat, scarf, mittens, wide-brimmed felt hat, and even thick legwarmers tucked into my boots in order to battle the northeastern cold, Loki poked fun at me, for all he had to wear to keep warm was an olive green sweater and an ivory scarf. I deflected his peevish comments by sticking my tongue out at him like the mature adult I was, and we set out for our journey, me huddling against his body for warmth, teeth chattering.

“Why don’t we get you something hot to sip while we walk, hm?” Loki suggested as we immersed ourselves into the buzzing streets, the day shift doorman bidding us good morning.

“That would be lovely,” I agreed, burying my face into the thick fabric at his shoulder. “My nose is already numb.”

Since I had blinded myself in my quest to provide a shield from the cold, Loki led the way into a coffee shop just steps from our building, the sudden warmth washing over me like a contented sigh. The line before the counter was long, so he instructed me to go find a place to sit by the heater and entered the queue for the both of us. That was a command I was grateful to obey, so I promptly ducked my head to push my way through the crowd, keeping my eyes on the floor until I lightly collided with someone in a hurry to exit the shop.

“Oh, excuse me,” I began to say, but as I raised my eyes, the face before mine was a familiar one. “Clint?” I inquired, brow furrowing.

“Camryn,” he greeted with surprise lingering in his voice, switching his coffee cup from one hand to the other, regarding me carefully. “Where’s your fiancé?”

“He’s in line,” I replied, my tone noticeably warmer than Clint’s as I pointed out Loki, who was utterly dead to the conversation, instead eyeing the pastry counter eagerly. 

“What are you doing in the city?” I asked to fill the lull in the conversation. “I thought the S.H.I.E.L.D base was in D.C., and I figured you would’ve gone back to it after the holiday.”

“No, the team is still in the city monitoring some potential threats, all staying at Stark’s.” Clint cleared his throat and took a long drag from his cup.

“Ah, Thor told me that, and I should’ve remembered.” I nodded awkwardly. “What brings you so far uptown, then?”

“A simple little scoping out job, nothing major,” Clint answered, eyes widening as Loki approached, our twin vanilla chai teas in hand. I nudged him lightly in the ribs as a silent reminder to be nice.

“Barton.” Loki dipped his head cordially, though I could see his jaw twitch. “Good to see you.”

“Same goes for you, I guess.” Clint’s gaze ventured to his watch. “Excuse me. I should get going.”

As he hurried away, I took off my mittens and grabbed Loki’s hand, startled by the warmth from his cup that lingered on it. I beelined him over to a table by the window, which allowed us a view of the soft snow that had begun to fall.

“Remind me again what you did to make Clint hate you so much,” I condemned, unfastening the top buttons of my princess-cut coat, taking a bite from the apple scone Loki had bought to share.

“It’s really not all that important.” Loki insisted, smoothing a napkin across his lap.

“Well, it obviously is. He’s the only one that hasn’t warmed up to you at least a bit after the party.” I wiped a bit of maroon lipstick away from where it had smeared on my chin.   
“Hell, he hasn’t even really warmed up to me.”

“Well, I… I may or may not have made him my mind slave, back when I attempted to invade the city.” A flush crept up Loki’s neck.

I nearly choked on my drink. “You what?” I gasped, loud enough to cause a college student huddled over a laptop to turn from her work and stare at me angrily.

“Well, it’s not like I was exactly in my right mind,” Loki argued, ivory skin growing pinker still. “I had been tortured, was delirious from fever, delusional and drunk on my own false hope, and partially under the Tesseract’s control myself.”

“No, you’re right,” I agreed, taking his hand across the table, embarrassed at my shock. “We’ll just have to work harder to prove to him that you’ve changed, is all.”

“A task more formidable than any I have braved on Asgard,” Loki murmured to himself, inhaling deeply. “Though entirely necessary, for I am weary of never being welcome.”

Once the scone had been devoured, I replaced my mittens and grabbed our drinks, and we set back out into the snow. Lo tried time and time again to persuade me to get into a cab as we ventured down the streets, but each plea I refused, insisting that there would be no point.

“If I catch a cold, it’ll be fine. I’m on break, and I’ll have time to recover,” I reminded as I entered a store consisting of mostly athletic wear. I sent Lo off to divide and conquer, observing the colors I had to choose from, rubbing fabrics between my fingers to find the one I desired. My purpose in the store was straightforward and I was ready for checkout within twenty minutes, until I glanced up to see where Lo had gone off to, only to see that he was engaged in conversation. Confused by the out-of-character behavior, I stepped over to see who he was speaking to, discovering that it was none other than Steve Rogers.

“Hey,” I greeted upon my approach. “Steve, what are you doing here?”

“Well, even super soldiers need to shop.” He held up his selections, giving us a warm smile, a sharp contrast to whom with we had previously conversed. “Though, I was surprised to see Loki here.”

“No offense, but I’m surprised you even spoke to him, and did so kindly.” I carefully observed Loki’s face, and it showed no signs of anger or discomfort, only slight confusion.  
“Well, I took into account what you said at the party, that we’ll have to work together someday, and that we’ll never be able to do so cohesively if we can’t get along. Besides, I can see that he’s changed, and Thor, someone I trust more than anyone else on the team, insists that he has good intentions now, and I believe him.”

Loki cleared his throat. “I’m standing right here.”

“I’m sorry, love,” I chuckled, looping my arm about his elbow and pulling him closer to me so that he could be a part of whatever exchange came next.

“I don’t mean to pry, but…” Steve trailed off. “Why are you so surprised that I was kind to you? I thought that after the party we understood each other better, and were on semi-good terms.”

“Well, we just had a less-than-pleasant encounter with Clint in a coffee shop,” I replied. “It’s not as if he was unkind, it was just...uncomfortable. He would barely speak to me, and was in a hurry to leave once Lo joined the conversation.”

“I can’t blame him. Out of all of us, he probably had the worst experience with Loki.” At Steve’s words, Loki prickled beside me, and the Steve jumped to make amends.

“I don’t blame you, either,” he assured. “We haven’t heard your part of the story, and I don’t believe in blame until both parties are heard. Clint will just be the hardest to bring around, but I wouldn’t mind putting in a good word on your behalf when we regroup at the tower tonight.”

“Thank you, but it won’t be necessary,” Loki refused politely. “I fight my own battles.”

“Every winning side needs a few allies,” I countered gently. “In this situation, you need all the witnesses you can get in order to convince everyone that you’re not a threat anymore. Steve, we’d be extremely grateful if you did that for us. I think your word will be a huge help to our cause.”

“I’ll be glad to give it,” Steve replied. “Do you think you’ll be joining us for anything else soon?”

“I don’t know. It sort of depends on the host to invite us. I don’t think we’re on terms where we can just stroll in yet,” I answered.

“Well, next time we have a party, I’ll make sure you get an invitation.” Steve bid us goodbye as an employee approached to inform him that a changing room was ready. I waved as he disappeared from sight, stepping up to the checkout counter myself.

“See?” I pointed out to Loki as I passed my purchases to the cashier. “They’re not all bad. Steve seems very open-minded, which is good for us.”

“I enjoyed our conversation, I’ll admit, and it was more warm than cordial, but I don’t think the rest of them feel the same way. Barton is a clear example of that.” Loki fumbled around for his wallet, slapping his credit card on the table without breaking eye contact with me. “The captain can try all he’d like, but I doubt they’ll put up with any further incidents of scum like me defiling their social time, now that they’ve satisfied their curiosities and met you.”

“That’s why we have to keep proving ourselves,” I whispered, taking the bag and leading him to a small corner of the store where we might have a bit of privacy. “If we ever want them to trust us and our good intentions, we have to continue to try. Steve’s good word will be a huge step.”

“Why do you keep saying things like that?” Loki shook his head. “It’s always ‘we, we, we’. You did no wrong. This is my doing, and mine alone. You have no association. Yes, we knew of each other before my fall and before the battle, and though you stayed by my side in the aftermath, you never took part in the atrocities themselves.”

“I would think that after all this time you would understand.” I cupped his cheek. “We’re a part of each other now. What’s yours is mine and what’s mine is yours, and that includes actions.”

Loki sighed heavily and put his hand over mine, his fingers having reverted back to the chilly temperature I had grown to love. “I knew from the moment I laid eyes on you that I never should have dragged you into my messes and tied you to my fate.” He dropped his head so that his forehead rested upon mine. “You were and still are far too good for me. I knew I should’ve let one of your other suitors have you instead. And before you can say it- yes, there were many that wanted you.”

“When will you ever learn?” I brushed my nose against his. “I only ever wanted you. I chose this life. I knew full well the consequences, and I love even those, for we brave them together.”

***

Even after that, it took a fair bit more coaxing to improve Loki’s sullen mood and get him out of the store, but once I did the rest of our shopping day was swift and smooth, not shying from any task set until we entered one of my most favorite cosmetics shops.

“I sense we have a few too many bags now,” Loki remarked as we entered the maze of a store, its navigation a dizzying labyrinth due to the fact that almost every wall possessed a mirror. Once my eyes adjusted to the sight, I realized that neither of us had any room on our arms for another package. 

“The apartment isn’t far away,” Loki continued. “I think I’m going to try and take these back and return before you need to check out.”

“If you’re sure.” I stretched up on my toes and pecked him lightly on the lips. “See you in a bit.”

As Loki walked away from me, I stood still for a moment, forgetting where I was and instead longing to soothe the ache within him. However, when a clerk approached and offered to help me make selections, I was shaken out of my reverie. I politely declined the assistance and instead went about my own business, my roles for the year in mind as I selected an entire new collection of eyeshadows. It was no secret that I was completely obsessed with makeup, and I was in my own little heaven until a gentle hand tapped me on the shoulder. I turned to meet whoever was commanding my attention, and discovered that it was none other than Pepper Potts, with Natasha in tow.

“What are the odds?” I squealed as Pepper embraced me as if we’d been friends for years. “Loki and I have seen almost the entirety of Avengers out and about today. We ran into Clint at a coffee shop, Steve at an active-wear place, even Bruce at the market when we went to place our grocery order for the week. And now you two!”

“That is pretty funny, though admittedly likely,” Pepper giggled. “Today was the first since everyone’s arrived that we haven’t had all an agenda, so those of us not working set out for our own errands, and since this is the best shopping area closest to the tower…”

“Oh, yeah, of course.” I nodded. “What brings you here, to this store?”

“Tony has a big event coming up at the end of February. I’m his plus one, and it’s given me an excuse to be as glamorous as I’d like,” Pepper replied, a coy smile playing at her lips. “Plus, I haven’t bought anything indulgent since I became the CEO of Stark Industries. It’s been too long, and I take the opportunities when they come.”

“I get it. Once a year I have to stock up on stage makeup, and this is the only window of time I have to do it,” I empathized. “What about you, Natasha?”

“Just having some fun.” She held up her own bag of purchases. “It’s a guilty pleasure.”

“Don’t I know it.” I drew in a collective breath. “I had a lot of fun on New Year’s Eve. Thanks for giving Thor permission to invite me.”

“Oh, no problem.” Pepper waved her hand. “I had a great time too, and so did Nat. We should do it again sometime.”

“I would absolutely love that.”

“Here.” Pepper reached into my bag and took my phone. “Let me give you our contact information, and we’ll keep in touch, alright?”

“That sounds great.” I beamed and embraced them both in turn. “I’ll let you get on with your day, and I hope to see you again soon.”

“Next time we have a girl’s night, we’ll be sure to bring you along,” Natasha promised as they took their leave, and I giggled to myself over the chance encounters as I stepped over to pick up new sets of false eyelashes, which was just where Loki found me.

“Hey, you’ll never guess who I just ran into,” I announced upon his approach, dropping two pairs of lashes into my shopping basket.

“Oh, I think I will.” Loki picked up a lipstick and observed it carefully, no doubt imagining how it would look on me. “It was another member of the group where everyone hates me.”

“They don’t hate you, you big drama king.” I reached up and rubbed his shoulders, which I was surprised to find hard as rocks. “But yes, I ran into Pepper and Natasha. I think it’s safe to say that the three of us are somewhat friends now.”

“Well, I’m glad that at least one of us is succeeding.” Loki dropped the lip color he had been debating into my basket. “It’s half past two. Your appointment is at three, so I suggest we make haste. And by the Norns, if we find another one of those blasted Avengers in Jean’s shop, I’m going to our bedroom and never coming out.”

“I don’t believe that would be a suitable wedding venue,” I teased, and that time I did agree to take a cab to the cozy boutique that resided above a quaint little antique store on 59th where Jean Bellerose made his living. He was an up-and-coming but not yet famous designer with notoriously high prices, a chief caterer to the vastly wealthy socialites of New York City. However, he loved the ballet company so much that he made a deal with the directors and dressed a selection of the dancers for events with almost no cost aside from advertising.

I unbarred the door and encouraged Lo to follow as I entered the shop that appeared to be part of a palace with its faux crystal chandeliers, white painted-walls, refreshments served on silver platters, and blush pink, vintage-style furniture. It was sectioned off by gossamer curtains to create a changing area on one side, where Jean’s two assistants did their job, and a workplace on the other, littered with fabrics and quirky pincushions, where the faux Frenchmen often huddled over his practically antique sewing machine, garbed in a brightly colored suit, a spare spool of thread clutched between his teeth That was where he resided today, his jacket a brilliant azure, cherubic blond curls falling into his eyes, black thread streaming down his pointed chin.

“Bonne après-midi, Jean,” I greeted, pulling apart the curtain and peeking at his current project.

“Ah! Mon belle, salut, salut!” He rushed over, taking me by the shoulders and stretching up on his toes to kiss me once on both cheeks. “And you brought that delectable fiancé of yours along as well, merci.”

Loki cocked an eyebrow at that, and one of the assistants, Gabrielle, noticed Jean’s flirting and hurried to offer Loki some wine and a seat in the changing area.

“Well, I knew you were dying to see him,” I appeased as Loki was led away, then leaned down to whisper in Jean’s ear: “And your French accent is much improved.”

Out of all of his clients, I was the only one to know that Jean Bellerose’s real identity was Vadim Alkaev, Russian by birth, an immigrant that came to America at nineteen to study fashion, posing as if he was French to gain popularity.

“Ah, thank you. I have been practicing.” Jean ducked his head in reverence. “Now come, for I must show you your lovely Juliet-inspired gown. I made it specifically for you and your measurements, so you must like it.” His laugh was a flighty titter. “No pressure.”

“I’m sure I’ll love it. I’ve been excited about it for days.”

Once we discovered which of the three private tailoring rooms, divided by even more drapes of gossamer, that Loki resided in, Jean and I ducked behind the changing curtain and I stripped out of my winter clothes. Jean bade me to close my eyes as he unzipped a garment bag, taking my hand and assisting me into a floor-length gown that felt to be made of silk and tulle.

When I opened, I discovered that I was cloaked in a dress of a deep, greyish lilac with a subtle A-line cut, straps about as wide as the length of my two fingers, with a plunging v neckline that met at a point just below my breasts, yet my lack of cleavage prevented the gown from appearing immodest. The bodice and tulle overlay on the skirt were embroidered with charcoal curlicues that clustered around the high waistline, eventually morphing into delicate flowers as they became sparser further down on the skirt until they thickened again at the hem. Tiny rhinestones in the center of each bud gave the gown a subtle sparkle when I moved without making it overly glitzy, and I felt that it was perfect to represent my role as Juliet at the children’s hospital gala.

“Oh, Jean,” I breathed. “It’s amazing.”

“So much so that you wish for me to do your wedding dress, yes?” He placed his chin on my shoulder as I ran my hands along the fabric. “Now come. Your fiancé must want to see.”

Jean made a grand affair of pulling the curtain away with a flourish, yet Lo disregarded it and his attention went straight to me, jade eyes widening as he drank in my form.  
“You look...ethereal,” he finally commended, stepping up behind me and arranging my hair about my shoulders so that it only complimented the gown more. “I adore it.”

“I do, too.” I twirled a bit, observing the backside of the dress in the mirror. “And it fits perfectly. I don’t think it’ll require any tailoring.”

“If you’d like, I can wrap it up and you can take it home today,” Jean offered, and I gladly took him up on it, changing back into my street clothes and passing the garment to Jean so that he could properly ready it for transport. However, as I exited the changing area, a familiar voice reached my ears. Loki recognized it as well, and stared at me warily.  
“Is that…” I trailed off, and at Loki’s shrugged response I realized that it was. With a tentative touch, I reached around the curtain that separated our changing area from its neighbor, which happened to harbor Tony Stark himself, buttoning up into a suit as Gabrielle placed pins about the jacket.

“Ah, Twinkle Toes!” he exclaimed. “What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same question.”

“Pepper is insisting that I have a new suit made for some gala that I’m morally obligated to go to next month, and I’m all for raising awareness for those with talent, like Jean.” Stark straightened his bowtie. “What are you and Rock of Ages doing here?”

“About the same thing as you,” I replied, treading the conversational waters carefully, not quite so willing to joke around now that I was no longer under the influence of drink.  
Tony gestured vaguely to something behind me. “Also, why does he look like he’s about to hurl?”

I glanced over my shoulder and noticed that Lo was leaning over his spidery legs in the whimsical armchair, face in his hands.

“That’s it,” he declared into his palms, speech muffled. “I’m going home and never leaving.”

I took it upon myself to explain. “We’ve run into about every single one of your people today, and he told me that if he saw another Avenger in Jean’s that he was never going to leave our bedroom again.”

“All that’s left is my oaf of a brother and we’ll have encountered the whole set.” Loki rolled his eyes in that dramatic way he was so susceptible to, drawing himself up to his full height.

“Well, good news for you, because I don’t think that’s likely.” Stark paused to request that Gabrielle pull the waist a bit tighter, then continued. “Thor’s out on a short undercover mission with Clint today, and when they’re done with that, I believe he’s going out to look for a safe to keep Mjolnir in. I think he got tired of us touching it all the time.”  
“I’d hope we wouldn’t meet him, because we’re going straight home after this,” Lo declared. “I just hosted him a few days ago, and I don’t want to feel morally obligated to invite him over.”

“It is sort of weird, though, us running into everybody,” I added conversationally, just as a preemptive strike to keep the interaction civil. “It almost feels like it means something.”

“It does,” Tony stated matter-of-factly, hopping down from the stool.

“And what might that be?” Loki spat, which only brought a smirk to Stark’s lips.

“It means that no matter how much we’d like to, from here on out, we can’t get rid of each other.”


	5. Drunken Confessions

Days after the incident of several chance encounters, Loki, Thor, and I were piled into a cab headed for the airport. The business Thor had to attend to with the Avengers was taken care of and Jane’s holiday visit to her mother had concluded, so the she was flying from London to New York and then laying over at our penthouse for a few days before she and Thor caught a flight back to New Mexico. That’s where they made their home, partly out of sentimental value, and partly out of easy access to the Bifrost should Asgard have need of Thor. 

Loki and I had extended an invitation to Thor to escort him to the airport and then assist Jane with her things before going on a double date later that evening, hence the reason why we were tagging along for their reunion. Once we arrived, Thor went off to find the proper gate whilst Loki and I waited by baggage claim to provide the couple with some privacy.

“I’m sick of houseguests,” Loki spat, rolling his eyes and reclining against the wall, crossing one slack-clad leg over the other. “I miss having you all to myself.”

“My love, you will soon have an eternity of that,” I reminded, tangling my fingers in the gelled hair at the base of his neck.

“An eternity isn’t enough!” He protested affectionately, but reverted to his crabby mood immediately. “And why must we be stewards to the Foster woman? She has entirely too many bags, and it’s not our responsibility to collect them, yet here we are.”

“I carry twice what she does when I go on tour and you’ve never complained about it once. And we’re fetching her things because I offered to.”

“Why would you do that?” Lo’s jape was a decibel too loud, and the people around us noticed his presence, inching away with glances of hatred and fear.

Even though that, through Thor and his connections, Loki had made an alliance with Midgard and S.H.I.E.L.D publicly announced that he was no longer a threat, it was still difficult for him to go out, especially in areas with less people and therefore where he was more recognizable, causing him to resign himself to casting spells over places we frequently spent our time so that people did not realize who he was. 

Over the course of time. we found that the people of Earth were divided into three categories: those who hated him, those who were terrified of him, and those who were in love with him. Even I was suffering the blows of these mixed feelings for being so closely related to him. I could see in his eyes that Loki hated putting me through that, so I made sure to frequently remind him that it was not something I minded in the slightest, for anyone who thought ill of him was not worth my time.

To the people glaring at my fiancé. I glared right back, my brows drawing downwards to engulf my eyes in shadow, my lips stiffening into a hard red line, and my chin lowering maliciously. Soon people realized that I was the one to be feared in this situation, and averted their rude eyes.

Thor and Jane arrived just as our uncourteous onlookers began to slink away and the baggage rolled down the conveyor belt, Thor looking ecstatic and Jane rather tired, clutching a double red-eye.

“Hello!” I greeted jovially, striding over to embrace her tightly. Despite the fact that I had only met the Avengers days ago, I was rather familiar with Jane, and we had become quite good friends, communicating almost daily through text messages and phone calls, even spending time together without our men. “How was your flight?”

“Oh, I wouldn’t know.” She turned to hand her coffee cup to Thor, only to discover that he and Loki had moved away to the baggage carriage to await her things. I took it in his stead, and she dug a pair of woolen gloves from her jacket pocket. “I was bracing myself for jet lag the entire time by taking a nap. Thor’s got his heart set on all of these romantic endeavors for the next few days, but I’m afraid I’ll be too grumpy to enjoy them.”

“Do you want to call off the date, then?” I offered, handing her cup back to her. “We don’t have to go out; we could just put on a movie, get some takeout, and have a night in if you’re too tired. Gods know our place is big enough for it.”

“No, I need to go out.” She waved my previous comment off. “It helps me get adjusted.”

Loki and Thor chose that moment to approach, Jane’s admittedly large bags in tow.

“Jane.” Loki dipped his head, lips pulling into a small yet warm smile. “How nice to see you again.”

“You, too.” Jane suppressed a laugh, and at that moment I knew exactly what she was going to say: a good-humored spoof of their first meeting, the one she used nearly every time they saw each other after becoming friends. “Do you still like me?”

“Admittedly less. You know how I feel towards houseguests.” Even though the comment would be rude out of context, Jane and Lo both shared a giggle. Since the four of us spent so much time together when we were able, Loki was almost as comfortable with Jane as he was with me, and that comfort in interaction involved his brutal yet humorous honesty that somehow never offended anyone.

“I’ll be out of your hair in a few days, I promise,” she assured, unburdening him of her carry-on. “Besides, I have a bunch of work to get done. You and Camryn will probably never see me, so you’ll be free to do whatever it is you want to do to each other.”

I laughed aloud, and Lo was quick to retaliate.

“Yes, but we’ll see your oaf of a husband. During his last visit, he decided that the wine we were providing for him was simply not enough and exhausted our hard liquor stash.”

“It would’ve gone to waste, otherwise,” Thor cut in, draping his enormous arm around Jane’s shoulders and dwarfing her already petite form. “You two drink like cravens.”

“I prefer the term ‘people with class’,” Loki corrected as we made our way out of the airport, immediately stepping into a cab so that the argument could continue, Jane in the front seat in order to stretch her legs after the long flight, leaving me to be squashed between him and Thor.

“You won’t be so classy when it’s found out how easily you get drunk,” Thor added. “One tankard of a real man’s drink and you’d be slurring and slipping, three and you’d be unconscious in your seat, whilst I would still be completely sober.”

“If that were true, it would only be because of your massive size.” Loki wrinkled his nose.

“If?”

“You heard me. I think that you’re rather wrong.”

“Would you like to test my theory, brother?” Thor challenged. “Come on then, when we arrive at your home, let’s go up and see if you’re not a coward.”

When the cab crawled to a stop outside of our building, Thor and Loki immediately exited and strode inside, still bickering, leaving it to me and Jane to pay the driver and unload the bags.

“Tell me,” I began, leaning against one of her suitcases, “are we their lovers, or their babysitters?”

“Honestly, at this point, I couldn’t tell you one way or another.”

The elevator was just closing with the brothers inside as we entered the lobby of the building, causing us to have to begrudgingly wait for the next one. When it opened upon the entryway, we discovered the engraved door leading to the remainder of the penthouse ajar, revealing that they had once again gone on without us. Jane and I stopped to stomp the slush off of our boots and hang our coats on the tree, then abandoned the bags to seek out a suspicion I had a lingering feeling to be true.

Sure enough, when we rounded the corner leading away from the living area, we discovered Loki and Thor seated at the bar, a line of shots before them. Just as they were about to raise the first rounds to their lips, I bustled over, yanking the glasses from their hands much like a mother taking something from a child.

“Nope, no, no, no,” I declared, emptying the small glasses back into their bottles. “Jane and I do not want this date ruined because you two are smashed.”

“But Camryn,” Loki whined, staring up at me with a comical pout. “I have to prove a point, here.”

“And I have to foil his attempts at proving a point,” Thor added, drawing an eye roll from Jane.

“You two can do that on your own time.” I herded them from their chairs. “Now go get changed, because right now your duty is to provide a nice, romantic evening full of sparkling conversation for your women.”

Once the two were off, mumbling and grumbling, I assisted Jane in bringing her bags to the guest room, which was, conveniently, on the first floor.

“God, I forget how big your place is,” she marveled, taking in the artwork lining the wide halls. While some areas were quite modern, Loki and I had decided upon a more vintage approach to the decor, which suited both of our personalities splendidly. “If you don’t mind me asking, what do you have to pay for this much space?”

“Lord, I don’t know,” I chuckled. “Lo takes care of all that. Good thing, too, or else I’d never even be able to afford a studio apartment, what with a dancer’s salary.”

Once Jane was situated in her room, I climbed to the top floor, entering the master bedroom where Lo was, fussing over his hair in the adjoining bathroom. He had decided not to change out of what he wore to the airport, black slacks and jade button-down, a typical attire, an outfit that turned me on unbelievably. I eyed him hungrily as I slipped into a long-sleeved, fit and flare black dress with a plunging scoop neck, and he noticed with a tortuous chuckle.

“Now I get to tell you to wait until later,” he teased, stepping up and planting a kiss on my nose. I whined and grabbed the front of his collar, attempting to pull him closer for a more satisfying interaction, but he untangled my fingers expertly.

“Please?” I shoved out my bottom lip, probably smearing lipstick all along my chin, but I was beyond caring. “Just a quick one?”

Lo continued to shake his head, stepping behind me to zip up my dress, an action that relayed a firm no.

“You should’ve let us continue that contest, darling,” he whispered, cool breath on my neck sending shivers down my spine. The intensity of the feeling caused me to take a while to realize what he had said, and when I did, I picked up the object nearest to me, which happened to be the coat I wore to the airport, and tossed it at him. It hit him full in the face as he turned to inquire whether or not I was coming and he sputtered, yanking at the fabric and letting it fall to the floor. When he raised his eyes to give me his questioning yet scolding look, I was seated on the edge of the gargantuan bed, fastening the clasps of my heels, acting as if nothing had happened.

“I think I’ve had a bad influence on you,” he muttered, offering his arm as I flounced over, ready to go at last. I simply smirked, planting a sloppy kiss on his cheek.

Once Thor, Jane, Loki, and I had all buttoned into our winter gear, the four of us departed back into the chilly night, hailing a cab and heading for one of Lo’s and my usual haunts. The small yet high-end restaurant boasted a varying selection of menu choices that would please everyone, so we figured it would be a good choice for the wide range of palates within the group. The young, sharply-dressed host greeted us by name when we arrived and led us to a cozy corner table in our favorite section of the establishment, providing a bread basket right away. I stole a piece before Lo could even pull my chair out for me, biting into it precariously as he began to pore over the wine list.

“Please, nothing too strong,” I requested, smoothing my skirt underneath myself as I settled into the spindly chair. “I don’t fancy the idea of the two of you continuing your contest here. This is a wonderful restaurant, and I’d prefer to not be blacklisted from it.”

“I’m offended you would even think such a thing.” Loki placed a hand over his chest in mock offence. “Brutish as Thor is, we were raised into royalty.”

“Really?” I played along, smirking coyly as I dangled my fingers as close as I dared to the flickering candle flame before us. “I had no idea.”

“There is an opportunity approaching for me to vanquish you, once and for all,” Thor put in as the wine arrived, taking the initiative to fill everyone’s glasses sparingly.

“And what would that be, so that I may prove you wrong?” Loki questioned, clearly game.

“On Monday I’m going to a bar with Rogers and Stark one last time before I leave. You’re welcome to come, if you’re not a coward.”

“Perfect!” I exclaimed, giggling. “Do it then. I’ll be at the theatre, and I won’t have to witness it.”

“Fine, then.” Loki lifted his arm above the table and extended it for a shake. “Do we have a proper agreement on a challenge?”

Thor clasped Lo’s hand in his own and gave it a firm jerk downwards. “We do.”

***

“What’s the matter with you today, honeybuns?”

I glanced up at my usual dance partner and dear friend Stellan from where I slumped on the floor of the dance studio, back contorted over a foam roller. 

“What do you mean? It’s the first day back from break, and I haven’t gotten up before 9:00 in what seems like forever.” I let a spiteful chuckle slip from between my lips as I tossed the roller aside and bent over my legs. “I’m damn tired, Stel.”

“No, no, no.” Stellan dropped his bag on the side opposite me on the barre, plopping down onto the floor, blinking with wide blue eyes. “I know your tired face. Hell, I’ve been onstage with you nearly every night for the past three years. I know all of your faces. That is not it. That is your stressed face.”

“It is not!” I protested gently, digging around in my bag for a pair of ballet slippers that were in fit condition to be worn.

“Is too. That’s the exact face you made before our first show of Giselle after you got that little surgery on your knee to get scar tissue removed. You’re stressed, just enough to be distracted, but not quite enough for you to be losing your mind. Tell Uncle Stellan all about it.”

“First of all,” I tossed an exercise band at his chest, which he promptly began to use to warm up his feet. “You’re not that much older than me, Stellan.”

“Four years!” He cut in, but I merely rolled my eyes and continued.

“Lo’s out drinking with his brother and some new friends today. I’m worried.”

“That he’ll get too drunk and go sleep with someone else?” 

“God, no, Stel!” I moaned, half laughing in the process.

“Good, because it’s nothing you should worry about. I’ve seen the way he looks at you.”

I giggled a bit, but sobered quickly. “I’m scared because the people in this group he’s with aren’t really fans of his, and I’m afraid they’re going to treat him poorly.”

“Ryn, I know you love him,” Stellan placed a hand over mine, “but that’s not your battle. It’s his. He’s gotta fight the haters on his own.”

I blinked, a sad smile shaping my face. “I wish it was that simple, but you’ve never been in love before, Stel. There’s no way you could possibly begin to understand what this worry feels like.”

***

After Stellan managed to halfway stay my nerves, the day gave way to a long span of being idle. After morning company class, I had personal rehearsals for my role as the secondary female lead in La Bayadere, Gamzatti, but the ballet mistress rehearsing me soon had to go attend the day’s full tech rehearsal for Cast B, and Act I with Cast C after that.

I was Cast A, and therefore had nothing to do.

Technically speaking, I could’ve gone home. Each of my variations and entrances had been rehearsed into the ground, and every repetiteur agreed that I should simply rest, that I knew the part and corrections like the back of my hand, and that my third year dancing the role will be my best yet. But I couldn’t go home. I was already stressing over Loki having a drinking contest with Steve, Tony, and Thor, and if I put myself in a cab, I didn’t think I’d be able to resist directing the driver to the bar they were frequenting.

That was something that simply couldn’t happen. Loki and I would be married soon, and part of marriage was trust, paired with giving your partner due privacy. So instead I wrapped myself into a sweater and went down to the public part of the theatre, entering the auditorium where the rehearsal was taking place and watching from a side balcony.  
For a few moments I watched newly promoted principal dancer Bianca and a young girl plucked from the corps de ballet dance and have pantomime exchanges as Nikiya and Gamzatti, taking corrections from their missteps and observing personal characterization of their parts. However, instead of thinking of ways to add my favorite points of their performance to my own style, my mind continued to wander to Loki and whether or not he was being treated correctly, and if the next morning there would be a news report about the famed Iron Man being found dead in an alleyway somewhere. With a quiet groan and stomp of my foot, I realized that watching the rehearsal was a lost cause and fled back to the artist’s only section of the theatre, where I spent most of my time.

I first entered the administration area, a peculiar office setting in the midst of a swarm of dancers and their creative workspace, separated by a glass wall, and found it empty due to the fact that many who worked there were on their lunch break. Grateful, I approached the bookshelf just beside the swinging door, which was constantly overflowing with performance DVDs, and scanned for the one I was after. When it was in my hands, I stepped into a small corner studio where an outdated TV on a rolling cart sat in the center, inserting the disc and situating myself on a tall stool before the screen, studying what I needed to study.

“Um, Camryn?” Before I could get halfway through the first act, a receptionist knocked timidly on the doorframe, and I turned to meet her eyes.

“Angela,” I greeted cheerfully, but my mood darkened as I noticed her worried expression, my earlier fears returning. “What’s wrong?”

“We’ve just got a call from security. There’s someone at the stage door, asking to see you.”

“Why haven’t they let him in?” I questioned. “All of the security guards know to put Loki through right away.”

“Apparently it’s a bit more complicated than that.” Angela shrugged. “It’s the new guy on duty this afternoon, so that’s probably why there’s an issue. I would still go down, though, just to make sure.”

Nerves churning in my belly, I sped past Angela and practically ran down the back stairwell. slammed the stair door closed in order to wrench open the stage one quickly, but breathed a sigh of relief to see nothing but Loki, Thor, Steve, and Tony, arguing with the security guard on duty. Thor and Loki seemed a bit tipsy but still fully coherent, whereas Tony was so intoxicated he had to be supported by a completely sober Steve in order to keep from falling over.

“Camamamamryn!” he slurred when I came into his line of sight, extending his arms. “Have you come to save us?”

I couldn’t get a word out before Stark had me locked in an extremely constricting embrace. Steve grabbed him roughly by the scruff of the neck and pulled him off, and I glanced at Loki.

“What happened?” I demanded.

“Stark decided to join us for our drinking contest,” Loki explained. “It was going quite alright, until the bar fight.”

I cocked an eyebrow. “The bar fight?”

“The bartender cut him off, and he wasn’t too pleased about that,” Steve elaborated. “Long story short, we were kicked out. We’re too far away to walk back to Stark Tower, but if he gets in a car, he vomits.”

“They can’t kick me out,” Stark muttered to his shoes. “I own the place.”

“No, you don’t,” Steve corrected.

“Well, remind me to buy it later!”

“In the hopes of providing a solution, I told them that you had means to sober him up enough to return home and offered our services,” Loki cut in, finishing the tale.

“But the asshole over there won’t let us in.” Stark pointed a wavering finger at the young security guard, drawing my attention back to the situation at hand.

“Greg.” I summoned up a smile as I approached person causing the hold-up, praying I had used the correct name. “What seems to be the problem here? It was my understanding that Loki has unimpeded access into the building.”

“He does.” Greg swiped at nose. “The other three don’t.”

“They’re with him, though,” I went on. “They’re part of his party, which means they’re allowed in.”

“It’s against the rules,” the young man whined. “I’m not supposed to let anyone in unless they have a pass. If I let them in, I’ll have to report it, and then I’ll get in trouble.”

“How about this, Greg.” I knelt down to look him in the eye from where he sat in his chair, feeling as if I was dealing with a five-year-old. “You let them in, and I’ll report it to the head of security myself, and tell her that you had nothing to do with them entering the building, therefore helping you escape punishment.”

Greg’s lip trembled, and when he finally nodded, I beckoned over my shoulder at the four awaiting access and ushered them into the building as quickly as possible.

“Is this where you work?” Stark gasped, breaking from Steve’s grasp. “Every day?”

“Um, yeah.” I giggled in spite of myself. Once Steve regained control over his charge, even he stared around in awe.

“This brings back memories,” he finally announced.

“Good ones or bad ones?” I inquired, leading the group up the stairs.

“Both.”

“Forget your stupid memories!” Stark hollered. “I want to see your hot ballerina friends!”

“First of all, Tony, you have to be quiet, because Greg down there was right. You’re technically not supposed to be in here, especially considering how intoxicated you are.” I turned to address his temporary caregivers. “Lo wasn’t lying when he told you that I have stuff to help Drunkey McDrunkerson over here. There’s a coffee maker in my dressing room as well as a private bathroom, so we can get him into a cold shower. One of you is going to have to help him with the latter, though, because I definitely am not.”

Loki and Thor backed off immediately, leaving a begrudging Steve to do the job. However, Stark protested so violently that Thor had to go help, and it became necessary for Lo to cast a noise-cancelling spell on my dressing room.

“Honestly, I’m surprised you didn’t just silvertongue your way past Greg down there. That’s your usual tactic,” I commented to Loki as I began to brew a pot of strong black coffee, giggling at the sloppy sounds of struggle coming from the bathroom.

“It appears that the alcohol stifles its ability considerably.” Loki flashed me an apologetic smile.

“Do I need to make you some of this, too?” I teased, holding up the mug I was preparing to fill. “But seriously, what were you guys even drinking? I know Stark doesn’t have superior anatomy like you and Thor, but I think it takes a lot for him to get drunk.” A thought hit me. “Dear god, did Thor pull out his Asgardian mead?”

“No. Unfortunately, at the beginning, Rogers insisted that we surrender any means of cheating to him, the decided most trustworthy. Since it is impossible to take away my magic without some sort of enchantment, he stuck to a boring drink and sat right next to me to make sure I didn’t make use of my seidr.” Lo rolled his eyes. “Then, we instructed the bartender to bring us the strongest drink he possessed, and after umpteen shots, the game ceased to be about who could outdrink his opponents, but instead became ‘Let’s Make Fun of Stark’.”

I barely had time to bask in my relief that Loki’s day had not been a total disaster when Steve and Thor finally pulled a considerably subdued yet still very drunk Tony Stark out of the bathroom and dropped him in my chair, and I passed him the cup of coffee I had prepared.

“Is he wearing my clothes?” I questioned, taking in the sweatpants and t-shirt that were a bit too familiar.

“It was the only fresh garb we could find,” Thor replied. “I apologize, and I’ll see that they’re returned to you.”

“No, I’m just amused they fit that well.” I giggled. “How ya doing over there, Tony?”

“‘M okay.” His voice was still slurred, but not as much so. His eyes drooped, and I began to realize that, despite the coffee, he was about to fall asleep right then and there.

I heard Loki’s rumbling chuckle as he stepped up beside me, placing a kiss on my temple. “My little caregiver.”

“I got you guys inside and gave him some coffee. That’s hardly being a caregiver,” I argued. “Thor and Steve had to shower him. They should get paid.”

Both were too modest to accept the offer, though, and Lo continued to dote on me.

“You took initiative of the situation, and made sure the right thing was done. You’ll make a fantastic leader.”

“Hell yeah.” Tony nodded, then continued to speak in a babbling, rambling sort of voice. “Loki, you’re lucky you’ve got such an amazing girl. If it weren’t for her, we wouldn’t let you come to any of our stuff. The team is still pissed off at you for trying to take over the world and honestly, no one really likes you. We just pretend to because we like her and Thor. You’re still kind of a dick, man.”

I rushed to silence Stark, but it was too late. Loki’s smile vanished from his features and an all-too-familiar dark look crept into his eyes as his fists clenched at his sides. I immediately moved to comfort him and attempt to fix the situation, but he had already stormed out, the door slamming definitively behind him.


	6. Unresolved Issues

“Loki?”

No answer.

“Loki, please. You’ve barely spoken at all the past week, save for when we’ve fought. I’m worried.”

He merely grunted and shrugged, staring out the window without focus.

“I didn’t figure you’d be so upset about this.” I bit my lip. “I didn’t think you were so fond of them, either. Why is it such a shock that they still don’t like you? I thought you expected that.”

“But for a moment, I was gullible enough to believe I was on the path to redemption,” he snapped. “Come to find out that they’ve only been treating me kindly because of my too-good-for-me fiancee. As always.”

I blinked back tears, imploring myself to focus on the road. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.”

Unsurprisingly, Loki had not taken Stark’s drunken confession well. When Thor and Steve promised to supervise drunken Tony once Loki had stormed out, I quickly muttered my thanks and ran out after him. I found him on the roof, form tense and fists clenched, all of the weathered benches overturned, old newspaper pages fluttering to the ground. When I approached and took his hand in mine, he rounded to wrap his arms about me and I felt a few stray tears drip upon my shoulder. I mentioned nothing of it, for I knew it would only make the situation worse.

We stayed that way until he was able to somewhat compose himself, so I called a cab for the three Avengers inhabiting my dressing room. Once they had left, I took Loki home, where he immediately crawled into bed and slept. He stayed that way for days, only moving if he wanted a drink. I had to force him to get up and shower, and I had long since given up on convincing him to eat something. I had figured that he would snap out of it once Thor, a constant reminder of the event, had left, but there was still no progress after his and Jane’s departure. If anything, Loki’s state only got worse. I was so concerned because of it that I nearly took off work for a week and skipped the premiere of La Bayadere to be home with him, but he insisted that I go, and those were the only words he said for seven days.

“Let him brood,” Thor had advised when I finally broke down and called him, begging him to tell me what I should do. “It’s the safest way for him to let the feelings pass, and they will. Just give him time, and affection, even if he pretends to not want it.”

After heeding those instructions, Loki was more responsive. Over the past couple of days, he had been rising from bed to frequent the media room instead of the master suite, watching television and livestreams of my performances, even rewarding me with small smiles and embraces when I would return home after a show. Because of that progress, I was able to pull him out of his newly-formed shell far enough to convince him to come with me that day.

My phone rang, cutting of the quiet classical music it had been sending through the car. I glanced at the caller ID, and discovered it to be Pepper. Lately she had been trying to get in touch with me, but I had been too angry to answer. I knew it wasn’t her fault that Tony spilled the beans, but I was still fuming that they had led Loki on and not been honest.  
“Who is that?” my fiance inquired in a thick, dolorous voice that probably could’ve rivaled Eeyore’s in terms of melancholy.

I forced myself to smile, declining the call. “No one I know, darling. Probably just a telemarketer.”

As I let my phone drop to my lap, he suddenly changed his course of conversation. “How many more houseguests must we endure?” he grumbled, and I nodded to myself, wondering when that query would come up. It seemed as if the call had opened a gate of questions he had been withholding in his period of silence.

“This is how weddings are,” I explained. “And the palace has guests all the time, does it not?”

“Yes, but I don’t have to be in such close quarters with them.”

“But you still have to entertain them and make sure they’re satisfied,” I huffed. As if our penthouse qualified as close quarters. “Once the wedding is over, I promise we won’t have any more guests for… five years.”

“Ten,” he insisted.

“Whatever you wish.”

Currently, we were driving upstate, locating a designated spot deep in the forest. There was no civilization for miles, therefore no one around to notice a giant rainbow bridge bursting from the sky, so that’s the spot we chose to receive Asgardian guests years ago. Since the date chosen to pick out bridesmaid dresses was approaching, both of my out-of-town participants were being delivered to the city for the event. Yesterday I had picked up my sister and dropped her off at a hotel, and today we were collecting Sif, my maid of honor, from Asgard.

Our friendship had not been a quick one. She hated Loki at the time I met her, and therefore was not fond of me nor did she trust my judgement. Once I was able to convince her of his good qualities, our interactions had turned awkward since she and Loki had shared a romantic relationship in their younger years, centuries before I had even been born, and she feared I would be angry with her for it. After assuring her that I didn’t mind (who could expect an over 1000-year-old god to never have had any previous relationships?), we slowly but surely became the best of friends. Much like Loki and I, we were polar opposites in ways that suited the nature of our interactions and more alike than twins in others, and she did not mind being Loki’s and my confidante in all the current happenings of Asgard.

“What’s going to make you feel better about all of this?” I finally asked, knowing I couldn’t be Loki’s babysitter forever.

“I don’t have any ill feelings towards the wedding,” he stated blatantly.

“You know that’s not what I’m talking about.”

“There’s no use saying what I want, because they’re never going to give it to me.”

“Well, what is it?” I pressed.

“I want them to respect and appreciate me. I want them to know who I truly am, not just what Thanos made me into.”

“You’re right,” I informed in a biting tone, sharp enough to cut through diamond like it was butter. “You’re not going to get that. Not if you hide in your shell and never go around them.”

He scowled and turned away, knowing I was correct.

“I don’t foresee any future invitations being extended,” he finally continued.

“Give it time.” I pursed my lips. “At least put on a smile for Sif. She’s your friend, and has nothing to do with any of this. I know it’s easier said than done, but try to forget about it for at least today.”

“What am I to think about instead?”

I couldn’t take it anymore. With a jerk, I pulled the car over, ripped off my seatbelt, and vaulted over the console into Loki’s lap, kissing him full on the mouth. He kissed me back for a moment, but soon jerked away with a gasp.

“What was that for?” He exclaimed.

I captured his lips again. “Giving you something to think about,” I replied, climbing back into my seat, switching the car into gear and continuing along as if nothing had happened, but a stunned look remained plastered on Loki’s features as his chest rose and fell quite noticeably.

“It’s cruel to kiss me like that and then leave me wanting,” he finally breathed.

I smirked, pleased my tactic had worked as expected. “It’s for your own good. Besides, we’re going to be late.”

I cut a hard right, continuing down a walking trail that led into the bowels of the forest. It was technically illegal for me to be driving on it, but it hadn’t been frequented by anyone but squirrels and the occasional deer in years, and the last highway patrol car we spotted was miles away. I drove down the path, unconcerned, until I reached our marked spot: one tree on either side of the trail cut down to perfect stumps of equal height. Loki and I unloaded ourselves from the car and left the trail, continuing through the trees on foot, arm in arm but saying nothing. After a few short minutes of the pleasant hike, we approached the clearing we had been coming to for a year now, the grass still blackened with the imprint of the rainbow bridge.

I turned to Loki, but my gaze shifted to the pale blue sky, muddled by a few wispy clouds.

“Should you call or should I?” I questioned.

“No one needs to,” he replied. “Sif is so punctual, she’ll probably-”

His sentence was cut off by the clouds swirling overhead and turning a sinister grey, churning and darkening until the Bifrost burst from between them. When the intense, blinding blast of light faded, one of the most famous warriors in all of Asgard stood before us, her wide, tense stance suggesting battle even though it was nowhere around. She was in her usual garb, though her breastplate was not affixed around her burgundy tunic and her famed double-bladed longsword was not at her side. However, if I looked closely, I could see the silver hilt of a dagger poking out from the top of her boot.

“Hello!” I called out, waving my arm to break her from the spell of disorientation that usually occurred when landing from the Bifrost. Unless in the heat of battle, it almost always rendered one mentally blank for a few moments, especially if it was opening on an unfamiliar place. For interdimensional traveling, it was the mildest side effect one could hope for.

Sif spotted us quickly and jogged over, taking my hand in hers. She wasn’t one for embraces, and the gesture was her version of one.

“It’s been so long since we’ve seen each other,” she commented. “How have you been?”

“Quite well. I’m getting very excited for the wedding,” I replied, grinning.

“I must admit that I am, too.” With a sheepish smile, she turned to my fiancé, making no move to touch him in any way. The two of them never shared any physical contact, afraid that it would anger me because of their past relations, no matter how many times I assured them that I didn’t mind. “And you, Loki? How are you coping with your Midgardian life?”

“I would go mad if it weren’t for Camryn,” he chuckled, startling me, for that was a sound I hadn’t heard in a long while. “The mortals seem to grow more insolent every day.”  
The two shared a hearty laugh, and my mind went elsewhere as I searched for the politest way to word my next question.

“How’s life on Asgard?” I finally asked.

“I’ve told you many times that you don’t have to disguise your inquiries on the happenings there; I don’t mind relaying them.” Sif led the procession back to the car, as always knowing exactly where she was going. “The people are a bit anxious. The Allfather fell into the Odinsleep just a few days ago.”

Loki jerked to attention at the sound of that. “Truly?”

Sif’s head cocked to the side and her voice took on a teasingly condescending tone. “Would I have said so if it weren’t?”

I looked up at my husband-to-be with a happy expression that was not quite a smile. “Should we plan to go there soon to attend to some wedding preparations, while it’s opportune?”

“I think we should.” Loki’s mood was brightening considerably. Despite he who ruled over it, I knew that Asgard was his favorite place in all the realms to be. It was quite dear to my heart, as well, even if I could count on one hand the number of times I had been there. “We ought to call someone else down, though, because I’d hate for Sif to have to go back and forth making arrangements for our stay.”

“By that expression of goodwill, do you mean to say that you don’t want me angry towards you so that I continue to do you such favors indefinitely?” Sif smirked knowingly. “And it won’t be necessary. All arrangements have already been made.”

I exclaimed in delight as I climbed back into the car. “What would we do without you, Sif?”

As she offered up exaggerated possibilities, my mind drifted to my phone, which had been abandoned in the cupholder, lighting up with a text. With the car left idling, I picked it up and discovered that it was from Natasha, not what I was expecting. Pepper often mentioned Nat in her attempts to contact me, but she had never made any move to get in touch with me herself. Apprehensive, I opened the text and discovered that the message contained only three simple words: We should talk.

I knew that I should heed the request and put the problem between our parties on the path to resolution. But at that moment, I just couldn’t bring myself to answer. I sat there, staring at the screen until both Loki and Sif fixed me with expectant expressions, then deleted the message and drove out of the forest, leaving my feelings behind.

***

“Are you sure you’re going to be okay?”

Loki came up in front of me and buttoned my coat as Sif fussed with her borrowed scarf in the foyer.

“My love,” he began. “I am not a child. I am fully capable of being by myself all day.”

“I’m afraid you’ll get bored,” I pouted, poking out my bottom lip.

“I have Bellatrix and Sir Henry to keep me company,” he reminded, picking up the lithe black cat implanting her hair into my suede heels and bestowing a caress on the head of the majestic Maine Coon that lounged lazily atop the loveseat. As Bella nuzzled into Loki’s chest and Henry purred deeply, I couldn’t help but smile at the sight.

“I know, but I still stopped by the bookstore yesterday and picked up a couple of novels I think you’ll enjoy.” When the God of Mischief was wanting for entertainment, he became quite, well, mischievous, and I didn’t fancy the idea of coming home to find Bellatrix’s fur turned green or all the power cords enchanted to trip whomever passed by. “The bag is sitting next to my nightstand.”

“And people say that I spoil you.” Loki waggled his eyebrows and kissed me lightly. “Go. I’d hate for you to be late for your appointment.”

With one last questioning look answered with a reassuring nod, I pulled myself away and met Sif in the fanciful elevator with mirrors lining every inch of it, our reflections staring at us from every angle. I pressed one of the buttons encased in their faux gold plate, then went to lean against the hand bar done in the same phony material, studying my features and tucking a stray wisp of hair back into my chignon.

When the doors opened with a chime, revealing the luxury lobby, I discovered Chantel, Stellan, and Chloe, my older sister by seven years, waiting for us. They were all three seated on a spindly bench next to one of the many fountains in the foyer, chatting animatedly, clutching their complementary beverages. When they spotted the opened elevator, they rose and stood to meet us.

“Camryn,” Chloe gasped, her silver eyes wide. The two of us looked so unlike each other that almost no one believed we were sisters without definitive proof, the popular assumptions being that were that we had only one parent in common, or that one of us was adopted (usually they believed it was me, for my sister was a perfect combination of our parents whilst I inherited the skipped genes from our indigenous ancestors).

“I think I just saw…” she continued, rattling of the name of some celebrity usually appearing in romantic comedies. Loki and I knew him as the guy who walked his three dogs every morning at promptly six o’ clock.

“Yes, Chloe, as I’ve said before, many celebrities live in this building, and they’re still just people,” I drawled in reply. I didn’t mean to be so condescending towards her, but by now it was simply an instinct, a developed survival tactic necessary for a younger sibling attempting to live up to a greatly accomplished older one. That was another reason why Loki and I had such a good understanding of each other; we had mutual experiences with siblings.

“Jeez.” She scowled, light blonde hair curling over her rounded jaw. “You don’t have to be so rude about it.”

“You’d be annoyed by it, too, if seeing these people every day had completely desensitized you to it. I keep telling you that it’ll happen if you moved to the area, like Mom and Dad have tried convince you to do many times.”

“No.” She shook her head firmly, an action that was almost childish. “Like I keep telling you.”

“Come on, you could move upstate like our parents, I’m sure there will be plenty of room for your dogs to-”

“No.”

“Fine.” I giggled, then turned my attention to the rest of the party. “Well, Sif, you’ve met Chloe before. These two are Chantel and Stellan. They dance in the company with me.”

As they exchanged their greetings, I gradually directed the group outside and hailed two cabs, dividing my friends as necessary. En route to one of the most high-end bridal salons in the city, I was squished between Sif and Chantel, Sif staring out the window intently, always interested with the culture and energy of the city, and Chantel complaining about the conductor directing the music to be much too fast in the previous night’s show of La Bayadere. However, I merely stared intently at my phone, reading and rereading a message received not five minutes before.

After the day we picked up Sif and my lack of reply to the request for a conversation, Pepper and Natasha made no more attempts to contact me. I had taken that to mean that all bridges between me and Loki and the Avengers had been burnt once and for all, and I wasn’t sure if I should be upset or relieved by it. That morning, Pepper made those feelings even more complicated by sending a message stating:

Give us another chance. We can fix this.

How did I respond to that?

I was grateful when the cab finally pulled up to the boutique, allowing me to push the conflict to the back of my mind as I led the group inside and to the concierge desk. We were immediately taken to our designated area and introduced to the consultant, and after discussing style and color preferences, we decided to divide and conquer to select things to try on: Chantel and Chloe with the employee, Stellan by himself, and Sif with me. The two of us stepped into a specialty designer section, but the lack of conversation brought the message from Pepper back into my head. Sif browsed the racks dutifully, but because of my racing thoughts I could do nothing but lazily trace my fingers across the little-varying array of fabrics.

“Something’s wrong,” Sif finally stated, halting in the middle of the dimly-lit room and studying my vacant expression.

“No, there’s not,” I denied, skirting away from the question by observing a blush-colored gown intently. Sif saw right through it, for pink was not a color option I had given.

“There’s been something troubling you since the day I arrived,” she continued. “What is it?”

I realized then that if I were to talk to anyone about the situation, it would have to be Sif. Her place on Asgard made her free of any emotional connections to mortal issues, and if I talked to Loki, the only other person in the city sharing that disconnect, it would only rekindle the bad feelings of his that I worked so hard to banish. And after all, Sif was usually my go-to person when I needed someone other than Lo to talk to, for she was an avid listener, and her experience of being raised around two kings-in-training had made her one of the best councilors I’d ever met. Eventually I dragged my hand down my face and relented, explaining the situation from start to finish.

“I’ve no idea how I should respond to these attempts to reach out,” I finished, and Sif’s eyebrows knitted together in empathy.

“I don’t know how beneficial my advice would be in this situation,” she replied. “I’ve never had dealings with something like this.”

“Neither have I.” My staccato laugh was a mixture of spite and exhaustion.

“However, my training as one of the primary warriors of Asgard included how to negotiate with a hostile force, especially under the terms of forming a truce or alliance. This instance seems to be similar to that, so those teachings may be applicable.” She pulled me out of the cramped viewing area into the only slightly less cramped hallway, but it was much more private, away from the eyes of onlookers that may or may not recognize Sif from news reports of the destruction in New Mexico years ago.

“The path to a ceasefire happens in stages,” she began. “The first of that is the fact that you don’t want to be angry at them when it comes to making communications. Yes, you’ll always harbor bad feelings for what they did to you, but you don’t want to be at the point where you still seethe in rage that clouds your judgement when you’re reminded of whatever they did. Contempt and hostility are fatal to any peacemaking mission. We often resolve this problem by fiercely ranting to each other in the council room. After a sleepless night and countless casks of ale, we usually wear ourselves out and are able to proceed onto the next stage with clear heads.

“Next, you must do some careful accounting. You have to sit down and collect a list of all the offences they delivered against you, and even more importantly: those you delivered against them. Then comes the most humbling part: you must formulate a lengthy and sincere apology, mostly placing fault on yourself and condemning your own missteps, but that also mentions their motions against you and reminds them of their guilt in the situation.

“After that, it must be determined what exactly you want from them. Once that is found out, decide what the bare minimum of that request would be, as well as the best-case scenario. Present your request as something exactly in the middle, so that when negotiations begin, and they will, you will always get some form of the resolution you desire. It’s quite effective.

“In instances such as these, planning truly is the most important thing. These steps aside, you must be prepared when you come to them. Spontaneity will only rekindle the bad blood between the two parties. You must have your thoughts and feelings collected, as well as a loose script prepared for yourself. Whatever you do, do not go to them on an impulse decision or let them catch you off-guard.” Sif set her chin sternly. “That’s how wars are started.”


	7. Festive Negotiations

The five of us emerged from the bridal salon just as dark settled in fully, exhausted and energized all at the same time.

“That was certainly quite a bit more tedious than I was expecting,” Sif commented, yawning. “Wardrobe consultations on Asgard typically take much less time.”

“It all went downhill around four ‘o’ clock,” I added, glancing down at my phone for reference. “Really, Stellan, what was so bad about that green dress? I was so sure it was the one.”

“It made Chantel look like Sasquatch!” he protested, and even though we playfully argued back and forth for a bit longer, I was ultimately very happy with my choice of bridesmaids’ gown: a flowing gold beauty with leaf-like appliques that made the girls look like wood nymphs.

After a short debate, we decided to head to a nearby bar and grille for a few drinks, and, after sending Loki a message detailing our plans, we piled into two different cabs. That time Sif went with my sister and Stellan and Chantel rode with me, the latter pulling an outfit out of her bag and performing the famous party trick of dancers: completely changing clothes without ever getting undressed. I veered out of the way as workout pants and tights went flying, and the cabbie flashed us questioning looks as she pawed through her bag like a dog digging for a bone.

“What’s wrong?” I questioned as she swore under her breath, chewing her lip.

“I can’t find the sweater I packed,” she moaned. “Carlisle called a really early morning rehearsal for the people in his new ballet and I wore it during the commute to work. I must have left it in the theatre.”

“Well, do you want to go get it?” I offered.

Chantel’s face morphed into a look of pleading. “Do you mind? I’ll look crazy if I go out in burgundy pants and bright blue workout shirt.”

“That has a hole up the side.” I teasingly pointed out the tear as she redirected the driver, then dialed my sister in the car behind us.

“What’s up?” she quipped when she picked up, giggling slightly.

“Chantel forgot her sweater at the theatre so we’re going to make a stop there,” I relayed, straining my ears to hear the suspicious chatter in the background, accompanied by Stellan’s familiar shush. “You guys go on ahead to the bar, we’ll just be a little late.”

“Okay. Do you want us to save you two some seats?” Chloe giggled again.

“Of cour- Chloe, what’s going on? Why are you snickering like that?”

“Nothing, nothing.” Her giggles turned into full-blown laughter. “Your friend Stellan is just so funny!”

Before I could inquire further, she hung up.

“Weird,” I muttered, balancing the phone on my palm and staring at the blank screen.

“What is?” Chantel questioned, halting the task of searching for her performer’s pass into the theatre to look me up and down.

“My sister is just acting very suspicious,” I answered, rooting around in my purse for my own pass, tossing some bills up at the driver as he pulled up to the theatre.

Chantel wasted no time loping up to the artist’s entrance, flattening her card against the scanner and swinging open the heavy glass door for me, only to mount the staircase immediately, typing rapidly on her cell phone as she went.

“I thought you were in a hurry,” I reprimanded as we reached her dressing room, nodding to the now pocketed device.

“That was Jeannie down in security,” she answered simply. “Tonight she’s sitting in observation instead of outside, since the theatre’s closed, and my card scan registered on the log. She wanted to make sure it was really me.”

Not entirely satisfied with the answer, I gave Chantel a look as she ripped the workout shirt off over her head and tossed it into her portable hamper, poring about the cluttered dressing room in nothing but a pair of cropped corduroy pants and a bra. Together we searched in every nook and cranny to locate the crocheted sweater, and when we couldn’t find it, we resorted to the locker room, laundry room, and even the studios before a lightbulb went off in her head nearly a half-hour later.

“I went into the house to watch second cast do their run,” she declared, rushing towards the auditorium. “I didn’t have it on at the time, but I was holding it, so it must’ve slipped out of my hands.”

“Chantel, wait!” I called as I caught up to her, still in her utterly inappropriate attire. “Shouldn’t you put a shirt on first?”

“Why? The theatre’s closed; there’s no one here.” She shrugged, looking quite comical as we trekked through a gallery lined with luxurious portraits and finessed sculptures, a place inhabited by those mainly dressed in evening wear. “Besides, we’re dancers, Camryn. Flat-chested is in the job description. Neither of us have anything up there for anyone to see.”

“I have a little,” I simpered, crossing my arms insecurely. I was always self-conscious about my ruler-like figure, even if it was necessary for ballet dancers to have, for Loki always be depicted with buxom, vivacious women. Despite my tall stature, I looked like a small child in comparison.

“Your AA’s don’t count,” Chantel declared as she pushed open the doors leading to the orchestra level, bending down with one leg extended behind her, glancing along the backs of the velvet-upholstered seats. “Finally, found it!” She held the camel-colored fabric up triumphantly, shrugging it on and straightening it out.

“Good. Shall we head to the bar now?”

She ignored me, instead calling out “Found it!” again, much louder than she originally had.

“Yes, I heard you the first time, why are you-”

I was cut off by the curtain opening, revealing a score of my peers onstage, including the remainder of our shopping group, all grinning broadly, flanked by an army of party decorations and tables laden with hors d'oeuvres, gifts, and favors. Once the curtain was docked, the stage lights clicked on and a great roar of “Surprise!” reached my ears.

“What is this?” I gasped incredulously, poorly concealing a face-breaking grin as I approached the stage. I jumped into the empty orchestra pit as Stellan approached the edge, beaming, grabbing me under the armpits and lifting me almost as easily as Loki would have. He placed me down safely on the freshly-waxed marley floor, and I had to resist the urge to step out of my shoes to preserve it.

“It’s your bridal shower,” Chantel announced. “Come on, people, the signal was ‘Found it’. You almost ruined it!”

I halted her reprimands. “Why did you throw me a surprise bridal shower?”

“Because I knew you would never host one for yourself.” Chantel handed me a glass of champagne. “The girls in the company have been planning it for weeks, but I didn’t get an opportunity to invite the rare breed of your friends outside of ballet until earlier today. Most of them showed up, though, as far as I can tell.”

“How did you do that?” I demanded, chuckling.

“When you went to go help Sif button into her gown, we stole your phone out of your bag and went through your contact list. We sent a text out to everyone your sister approved. Bianca, bring it out!”

From backstage, tiny, silver-haired Bianca approached carrying Aurora’s small but no less ornate headpiece from the wedding scene in Sleeping Beauty, modified with a length of tulle streaming from the back.

“Don’t worry,” Chantel filled in before I could ask. “We checked with Martha down in the costume shop before we commissioned the veil being temporarily added. She did it for us; we didn’t deface a sacred company tiara or anything.”

Stellan bounced up from behind, carting around an empty champagne glass, his cheeks already ruddy. “Let’s start the games!” He pleaded, but I shook my head as I took inventory of the guests.

“Not yet. I need to go talk to everyone and thank them for coming.” I made a maternally sympathetic noise at the pout that shaped his wide features. “Later, I promise.”

I allowed him to affix the embellished crown to my hair before making my retreat, beelining over to where Sif lingered over by the gift table, looking uncomfortable and out of place in all of her timeless regality, as all Asgardians tended to.

“Here.” I took a plastic glass from the refreshment table nearby and slid it into her hand. “It will take the edge off.”

She studied the drink intently, seeing as champagne was not all that common on Asgard. She raised it to her nose as if it were wine, then took an experimental sip.

“I apologize,” she eventually started, smacking her lips. “I had no idea there would be festivities until your sister and dance partner told me on our way here. It seems that everyone has brought a gift, and I have none.”

“Don’t worry about it.” I rubbed her arm. “All the things you do for me and Lo are gifts enough.” I paused to take a sip of my own champagne. It had a pleasant taste, but did not hold a candle to the expensive bottles Loki kept stocked in our stores. “Was this your first experience with a surprise party?”

“Oh yes.” She nodded, taking in the scene. “Our festivities require weeks, if not moons, of preparation. They’re annual, and highly anticipated.”

I hummed fondly, remembering tales of Yule and Midsummer and Walpurgisnacht that Loki would tell me, accompanied by promises that I would experience thousands of them for myself when he ascended to the throne. “Well, do you enjoy them, so far?”

“I do. They’re quite exciting, and this choice of venue is quite creative.”

“Well, it’s home.” I reached out and rubbed one of the black velvet wings between my fingers. The act brought a rush of memories and an intoxicating mix of nerves and excitement, along with the relief and longing that always occurred when I slipped behind them for the last time in a show. It was strange to be there in a dress and high heels instead of a scratchy, breath-restricting costume that was somehow comfortable, but before I could get too upset I reminded myself that I would be in that exact position within twenty-four hours.

Sif and I chatted for a bit longer, and the guests soon filed into an informal queue to share a few words with me, as if I were already at my wedding. I was just about to seek out Stellan and announce that he could begin whatever games he had planned until I spotted two guests that had not come over to speak. They were angled away from everyone else, almost completely backstage, occasionally stealing a glance over in my direction. Fighting a flurry of feelings, I placed my half-gone drink on the table behind me and straightened myself.

“Excuse me for a moment,” I whispered to Sif in an apologetic tone. “There’s someone I need to speak to.” 

Upon Sif’s encouragement to go, I approached Pepper and Natasha, both dressed up for the occasion. They straightened as I approached, staring me down warily.

“Erm...hello,” I greeted awkwardly, suddenly painfully aware of the cold war between our parties.

“Your friend invited us,” Natasha filled in before I could ask.

“Yeah, I didn’t realize. She went through my contact list and texted everyone on it.” I gritted my teeth and kicked myself at how rude that sounded, and hurried to remedy it. “I’m glad you’re here, though.”

“We weren’t sure if we should come, given what happened.” Pepper proceeded as if walking on paper-thin ice.

“No, it’s good that you did. I have a feeling that if you hadn’t, we would’ve never spoken to each other again.” I paused to swallow hard in preparation. “And I think that while you’re here, we should discuss the problem at hand.”

I knew that by doing that, I was completely disregarding the advice Sif had given me not hours before, but now felt like the right time for it to happen, and I knew I would never get a better opportunity to discuss things. Besides, it was only Pepper and Natasha, and I doubted much could go amiss if I spoke to them. The real difficulty would arise when the men came to the table.

“Are you sure?” Pepper inquired. “I mean; it is your bridal shower. We can wait, if you want to.”

I smiled tightly. “It’s going to eat away at me all night if I wait, so I’d rather just get it over with, if you don’t mind. Everyone else probably won’t even notice I’m gone; not until the champagne runs out.”

So, I stepped up to Stellan and informed him that I was going to the bathroom (a memo he barely paid attention to for he was passionately arguing about some reality television show with my sister), then led Pepper and Natasha up to my dressing room for a bit of privacy. The two of them plopped down onto the couch and I in my chair, which was slightly higher than the sofa. Suddenly I felt like a schoolmarm scolding her naughty students, an uncomfortable vision given the situation.

“Suddenly I wish we hadn’t left our drinks downstairs,” Natasha japed, breaking the ice.

“Actually,” I rose and started rooting through the mini-fridge under my dressing table. “Loki usually keeps something in here… Ah, here we go.” I pulled out a bottle of wine and filled the only two glasses I had on hand, leaving me to have to choose between a Slytherin house mug and a Daenerys Targaryen water bottle for myself. I chose the mug, then distributed the drinks and returned to my seat, wondering how we should start.

“I’m sorry Tony said what he did,” Pepper jumped in, and I knew she meant it. Still, there were things that needed to be said.

“You know what? I’m not,” I began. “I’m not necessarily happy about it, but I’m not sorry. If he hadn’t spilled the beans, Loki and I never would’ve known where we stood with you, and you would’ve kept leading us on.”

“We don’t mind you,” Pepper assured.

“That’s the problem,” I cut in before she could continue. “Loki and I are a team. You should regard us as one person. From now on, what you feel about him is what you feel about me. Everyone in this city looks at me and wonders what I’m doing with him, and they talk about how I’m too good for him and deserve better than a mass-murderer. None of them have any idea how much that hurts me, because he’s the greatest thing to ever happen to me. For years I couldn’t believe the fact that this amazing, wonderful, ambitious, and loving god had chosen me, a mere mortal from a miniscule town with fairytale dreams, to share his life with, and now I’m nothing but bashed for having those dreams come true, because no one knows why Loki did what he did or what pushed him to it.”

They stared at me with blank expressions, and I knew that there was no easy way for them to kindly respond to that. I searched within myself and added on.

“I want to know from people who are sober. Or, mostly so.” I gestured to the wine in an attempt to lighten the mood. “What do the Avengers, as a group, think about Loki?”

Pepper took a generous sip from her glass, weighing her answer carefully. 

“We appreciate that he’s trying, we really do,” she assured. “And when we see the way he treats you, we see hope for his character, but we’re having an extremely difficult time looking past the Battle of New York. Even villains are saints to the ones they love, and he not only tried to take over the entire word, he murdered people by the masses to fulfill that desire. And, even with that aside, this is the God of Mischief we’re dealing with, here, and we can’t help but think that this sudden want for redemption is all part of some scheme in which we’re going to be betrayed.”

My face fell into my hands. “Look, you don’t know what happened to Loki. You don’t know why he did what he did. Yes, he is extremely ambitious and can be power-hungry to a fault, but the Loki I know, the true Loki, wouldn’t have achieved those things in the way he did were it not for his experiences. He had just found out a shocking truth about himself when he was cast out of Asgard, and from there he met this abominable, sadistic, monster of a man who did unspeakable things to him to break his spirit, then commissioned him with the task of securing the Tesseract. Loki was delirious by that point, mad from pain, and the conquest of the Earth was merely collateral, something to make him feel as if he had worth after what that horrible person made him believe. Given the chance, I’d rip his commissioner to pieces and make him feel everything he made Loki feel, only a thousand times over, but he’s completely across the universe, in a world hardly anyone knows about.

“Loki struggles with PTSD just like Tony, Pepper, but he suppresses it as if my life depends on it, and I think that makes it worse. On a bad day, he can become anxious if his shower gets too hot and the steam trapped, creating the sensation that it’s harder to breathe. But he hides it for feeling incredibly weak because of it, and that breaks my heart, because he’s the strongest person I know. He doesn’t need to feel like a bad person on top of that. Too much has happened to him in the past few years.

“Loki’s point in trying to create an alliance is that someday this commissioner of his is going to come back for him because he failed at his task, but this man won’t stop there. This isn’t about the fate of Loki, Hell, this isn’t even about the fate of the human race. This is about the fate of the entire universe. There’s no way any of us will survive if our parties don’t join forces and help each other. Even then, it may not be enough, but it’s better than nothing.”

They both blinked at me, Natasha’s face a well-rehearsed mask of expressionlessness, Pepper’s widened in shock. It was clear that neither of them would be responding anytime soon, so I took a gulp of the crisp red wine and continued, the slight tipsiness overtaking my senses giving me the courage I needed to continue and have the conversation in the way it needed to be had.

“What does Loki need to do to get on the path towards your trust and respect?”

Natasha opened her mouth, but I waved my hand to stop her.

“Wait, don’t answer that. Here’s what Lo and I will do: we’ll start working on proving that he has the capacity to be a good person and that he is, in every sense of the world, grey in a world of black and white. How, I don’t know, but we’ll work it out. In the meantime, I think that if the two sides are going to bond, he and I are the ones that need to make an effort this time. Tell me the next time the whole team is in the city, and we’ll have a dinner party at our place. I’d love to see more of you two as well, but I don’t know how often that will happen, because it only brings up bad feelings for Lo. I don’t like being the cause of those.”

Natasha allowed a small smile to tug at the corner of her lips. “You know, that’s what we like so much about you. We may doubt your taste in men, but you never hesitate to defend him, no matter the cost.”

 

Now on hesitantly good terms, the three of us engaged in a few minutes of light small talk as we finished our wine, then descended downstairs to rejoin the party, only for Natasha to announce that she had to take her leave.

“I’ve got to catch a quick flight to D.C.,” she explained as I saw her and Pepper to the exit. “I am first and foremost a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent, and another situation that threatens many lives is looming over us.” The last phrase was accompanied by a mischievous smile.

“Just another day at the office,” I played along. “Really, call me the next time you’re in the city. I’m sure Lo won’t object to the occasional girls’ night.”

“Will do.” Her eyebrows lowered in a studious expression. “Aren’t you doing Paquita in the spring?”

I nodded. “I start coaching for it next week.” Despite the fact that the epic full-length ballet was of the Spanish style and had a Spanish story, it was one of the great Russian classics, and it was really no wonder to me that Natasha was interested, given her background.

“I’ve already booked a ticket.” With a parting grin, she made for the door, but Pepper stopped her.

“Wait!” Pepper bent to murmur her ear. “The gift, remember?”

“Oh, yeah!” Natasha reached into her bag and pulled out a package wrapped in gold paper, tied with a black ribbon. “We weren’t sure if we would be on good enough terms at the end of the night to give this to you, but we brought it along, just in case. Now I’m glad we did.”

The two departed before I could see what they had given me, but, overtaken by curiosity, I couldn’t wait and open it with all the other gifts. I stalked over to the steps leading to the mezzanine level, seating myself on the red carpet and propping the package on my knees. I removed the wrappings and slid away the lid of the box to discover the muzzle that had been put on Loki when he was transported from Midgard to Asgard after the Battle of New York, or some such model. Gaping incredulously at the device, I noticed a small card tied to one end, the front printed with a pattern of BDSM objects, and inside Natasha’s scratchy hand suggested to “Call it a peace offering. Have fun, just don’t give us the details.”

It may not have been a conventional white flag, but it sure was an effective one.

***

When Sif and I returned home, laden with my gifts: some dirty, some practical, and some heartfelt, our introverted selves were so exhausted from spending hours in such a large group that the elevator ride to the penthouse seemed to be the most difficult thing we’d ever done. When we finally reached the landing, Loki and the cats were waiting for us, and I willingly fell into my fiancé’s outstretched arms.

“How many drinks did you have?” He queried upon discovering my state, tipping my chin upwards and seeming confused when I didn’t display any other of my usual signs of intoxication.

“I’m not drunk, just tired. There was a change of plans.” I waved a gift bag lazily. “Surprise bridal shower.”

His eyebrows soared towards his hairline and his lips parted slightly. “Interesting.”

“I’ll give you the details in a moment,” I promised, stepping out of my heels, one arm still draped around his neck. “First I need a pair of sweatpants three sizes too large, a makeup removing wipe, and some ice cream.”

Once I made sure Sif was comfortable in the guest room, I fulfilled each of those requests for myself, pausing only to pull the gift from Pepper and Natasha from my purse and devise the greatest hiding spot for it: the broom closet, on a top shelf behind the dustpan. As much as I enjoyed the gift, I was far too tired to use it tonight, and I figured it would be a lovely surprise for Loki on our honeymoon. He did nearly all the cleaning by magic, so the chances of him even opening the closet were slim to none, so I was confident that my secret was safe there.

When that was taken care of, I took a large tub of salted caramel gelato from the freezer along with two spoons, then trudged into the bedroom where Loki was inserting a Disney movie into the player. With a groan of exhaustion, I flopped onto the bed facedown, sliding and bumping into his chest. He chuckled, the sound resonating and vibrating against my skin, reaching down to pull me into a more comfortable position so that I was on my side, ear resting over his heartbeat, his arm draped around my neck, cool fingers caressing my shoulder. With one hand he opened the tub of gelato and offered me the first bite, kissing away the melted drops that strayed down my chin.

“You’ll never guess who showed up at the party,” I finally announced, tugging at the bottom of his sleeping shirt. “Pepper and Natasha.”

I felt him tense beneath me, but his tone remained calm. “Oh?”

“Mm. We had a talk about how to relieve the tension between our groups.”

“I told you, I don’t care-”

“But you do,” I insisted in an attempt to remind him that I wasn’t the one he had to hide his feelings around. “They just want you to prove that you can be good, if you want to, without malicious ulterior motives or anything.”

“And how are we supposed to do that?”

“Well, I have two weeks left of Winter Season, and then it’s off to Asgard until the start of Spring Season.” I lifted my head so that I was staring directly into those enchanting emerald eyes of his, only then they were filled with stubborn refusal. “In that time, you’re going to have to act like a superhero.”


	8. Rescue Mission

“Camryn, are you absolutely certain you can do this inconsequently?”

“Not really, but I’m not concerned,” I replied. “If I get caught, I’m confident that you could get me out of any punishments that may follow.”

“How did you even locate their communication stream?” Loki pulled a chair up next to me and studied my laptop with intent interest as I typed along without a care in the world.

“A few lucky searches.” I shrugged, pursing my lips into a shape that relayed indifference. “You know, for one of the most secretive government intelligence agencies, it’s not all that secure.”

Holding true to my decision the night before, I was spending time when I should be resting after an opening night performance to hack into S.H.I.E.L.D.’s communications so that we could find an opportunity for Loki’s first heroic act. It wasn’t exactly an ideal or conventional way to do so, but I determined that it would be the most effective in the time frame and situation that we had before us.

“How many things have you hacked before?” Loki gaped, incredulous, as I unexpectedly unearthed a great slew of files regarding the Battle of New York.

“Surprisingly none. It’s actually pretty easy if you have a basic understanding of computer and internet coding. And Google helps, of course.” Momentarily distracted, I clicked through the photos attached, and pointed out an image of Loki atop some sort of hoverboard, helm situated on his proud head, cape billowing out behind his form. “That’s hot.”

Loki ignored the comment, reaching over me to close the photo. “Doesn’t it defeat the point of being squeaky-clean heroes if we reach that status through illegal means?”

I swiveled about face him, putting on my best pleading pout. “Can you please go back to being the one in this relationship without a conscience, just for a moment?”

“I suppose so, as long as you promise to take every precaution necessary so that no one finds out you did this.” One of his hands found my shoulder whilst the other wagged slightly at me, as if he were scolding a naughty child.

“If you’re so concerned about that, I think that a simple masking spell will do the trick, Mr. Magic Man.” I turned back to the laptop and continued my quest, entering the last codes and information. “There. Now all S.H.I.E.L.D. communications will also come to us as well as the intended recipient, unless, of course, the message contains the keyword ‘New York City,’ in which case it will come only to us. If it’s a mission we decide to take we will fulfill the orders listed, and if not, we will send it on to whomever it’s supposed to go to.”

Loki scoffed, rising from his seat and stalking across the room.

“They’re going to kill you for this,” he eventually declared, hands fisted in his hair.

“Come on, I know you won’t let them do that,” I giggled, already checking for messages.

“What if I do?” His arms looped around my chest from behind and his lips brushed against the shell of my ear.

“Well, then, good luck finding another fiancée as cool as I am,” I teased, leaning my head back so that it rested on his shoulder. “Now get into bed. Stop worrying so much.”

“Only if you’ll be joining me,” he declared, stepping away, and in the reflection on the computer screen I noticed him cross his arms over his chest defiantly.

“Actually, I think I’m going to go have a bath,” I replied casually, reaching around the closet door to fetch my robe.

“Camryn!” He suddenly exclaimed. “It’s three in the morning!”

I turned around to gape at him, unabashed. “And? We’ve always been night owls.”

“But look back upon the schedule you had today. You’ve been involved in constant physical activity for at least sixteen hours straight, only to come home and do all of this for me. You need to rest.”

“Yes, but all of that aside, my bad knee hurts like hell and I’m not going to sleep at all unless I get it into a bath for a bit.” I sauntered into the adjoining bathroom, leaning over at what I knew was a precarious angle and running the water. “If you’d like, you’re welcome to join me.”

***

Over the next few days, I checked my messages nearly every five minutes. However, it was not out of attentive obsession, but absolute necessity, for if I didn’t, each of my inboxes would become so overflown with S.H.I.E.L.D. communications, all muddled up with my personal correspondence, that it would become nearly impossible to sort through all of it. I was beginning to regret the way I created my crude algorithm, but before I could ever fully bring myself to change it, some juicy bit of information would come my way that would convince me to keep it as it was. However, it had yet to bring us any opportunities to prove the lighter side of Loki’s nature.

It did bring some, but none Loki was keen on taking. At one point I suspected that he was just not being cooperative, but when he gave reasons for declining the orders that were actually reasonable, I had no choice but to agree with him. He advised against going to another Battle of New York cleanup (small Chitauri artifacts were still scattered everywhere, and after discovering that some carried a deadly virus it once again became priority to remove each and every trace of them), because it would be crawling with agents that would wonder how we even knew the cleanup was going on in the first place. He deterred a task of rescuing and housing a runaway Enhanced until S.H.I.E.L.D. could come collect her because we would most likely be arrested for kidnapping instead. Each was sent along to its intended recipient and we would continue to wait with growing dejection.

Finally, though, the perfect mission for us presented itself to us, and it became clear in my mind that this was a job we were meant to do. In a fit of excitement, I rushed to where Loki lounged with a book in the sitting room and jutted my phone under his nose so that he could read the message.

“‘Citizens are randomly disappearing near the area where the Tesseract was powered in the Battle of New York; the only one who has yet to return claims he was in the Chitauri world. It is suspected that the portal did not close properly and rifts are scattered around that neighborhood. Please check out,’” was his muttered paraphrase, but he then spoke up in his usual eloquent cadence: “I don’t know about that. The area was likely just weakened from the portal being open in it for so long, and when the convergence occurred, it’s my guess that the inevitable rifts became wider and stronger, and began to-- wait. You’re not actually considering taking this, are you?”

“Of course! It’s the perfect mission for you to begin to redeem yourself, given how close you are to that cause, not to mention the fact that I think you’re the only person on Earth right now that has the knowledge and ability to actually fix this. And,” I added, “we have a lovely excuse. We live in New York City, and we could simply say that we were sucked into the rifts during a pleasant afternoon walk, coincidentally resolving the issue in our escape, then decided to report the problem to S.H.I.E.L.D. because we were unaware if any others were in the area. No one will ever have any idea we ever hacked into their system.”

Loki remained silent, averting his gaze and stepping over to the window, staring out at the skyline. I didn’t have to follow the path of his eyes for long before I knew that he was fixating on Stark Tower in the distance.

“We’re not going to get a better opportunity than this,” I stated softly, and he turned once more to face me, expression pained.

“I suppose you’re right,” he murmured. “When shall we go?”

***

“Do we have everything we need?”

"Just about." From an unfamiliar black case lying open on the side table Loki produced a short dagger with an unornamented silver hilt, holding it out to me with his deft fingers clamped around the blade. "Take this."

I did no such thing, and instead stared at the offering, almost afraid of it. Eventually, I backed away, shaking my head and uttering protests.

“I thought you said that there should be no living hostiles in the area. Why would I-”

“Please, just take it,” he interrupted. “I want you to be safe, and this is a precautionary measure.”

Hesitantly I approached, taking the weapon gingerly and tucking it away. “Are you sure we shouldn’t bring Sif, then? I’m sure she could help better than me if there were to be a fight.”

“I don’t want to endanger anyone else. If it was up to me, you wouldn’t even be coming. I already told her that we were going to an event for the theatre, and that is how our excuse is going to remain.” He turned his back on me, busying himself with putting away the weapons case.

“You and I both know very well that Sif can hold her own, and if there is danger, aren’t two trained fighters better than one?” I argued, following his steps until my chin was practically resting on his shoulder.

“Sif knows very little about the Battle of New York. I’d like to keep it that way.” Loki avoided my gaze, continuing to go about his preparations.

“But if you would just tell people about your experiences between the time of your fall and the Battle, maybe they’d be a bit more understanding. You don’t even have to give them details, just a short explanation so they know that you’re not all bad.”

“Camryn, you know that if I tell them that, they’ll think that it’s a farce, or at the very least an exaggerated truth. And besides, traumatic as it was, it’s an excuse and nothing more. If I want respect, I’m going to have to redeem myself, and truly so.”

I gently turned his form about so that he faced me, running my hands down the length of his arms until I clasped his fingers loosely in mine. “I’m just tired of them looking at you like you’re a monster when I know the truth.”

“I am, too. But the way you look at me makes up for each of them a thousand times over.” He placed a lingering kiss upon my forehead. “Now let’s set out, before I decide against this plan.”

I could not, of course, tell Loki this, but my own courage had begun to fail as I realized just how dire our situation could end up being. I attempted to hide my trembling form as we interlaced our fingers together and exited the penthouse, taking the subway downtown, near where Stark Tower resided.

“How are we supposed to go about this?” I questioned as we stepped out of the station, suddenly wishing I could turn right towards the Flatiron District for a lovely afternoon of shopping and dining instead of left towards what seemed to be impending doom. “Are we just supposed to walk around and hope we get sucked into one of the portals?”

“No. I can sense where the rifts are, and I will lead us.” He pulled me towards the line of shops, away from the flow of sidewalk traffic. “I can detect at least four so far. It’s a wonder more people haven’t been taken.”

“Well, where’s the closest?”

“Follow me. It should be right about...here.” Loki rounded a corner and a feeling like walking through a veil of icy water rippled around me, and suddenly the bustling city around us disappeared. Darkness surrounded us so completely it felt as if I would suffocate, with no moon and stars visible anywhere, yet somehow the area was still strangely illuminated as if a queer indigo glow was coming from the very atmosphere itself. The terrain below was rocky and rough, rising and falling in such a varied way that our visibility was close to none. However, the planet seemed to spiral around its core, resulting in one having to be very careful, for if we were to slip and tumble over the edge of the cliff that seemed to span on forever to our left, we would fall deep into the void of space, never to be recovered.

“Wait,” I murmured, suddenly finding it impossible to speak over a whisper. “I thought the Chitauri world was destroyed.”

“Their ship was destroyed,” Loki corrected. “That’s not where they lived. This is their homeland, but it’s mostly abandoned since the greater part of their population died in New York. Even if there are beings present, they’re likely docile. They may be living creatures, but they were made to be controlled.”

I swallowed heavily before presenting my next question. “Is he here?”

I felt Loki stiffen at my side and heard his sharp intake of breath, his hand tightening around mine. “No. He prefers to be alone on his world, but that’s... close; a bit closer than I find entirely ideal. We will have to be extremely careful to leave no trace of our presence.”

There was something in Loki’s voice that was terribly wrong. I stepped around to his front to better observe his figure, and was disheartened by what I saw. His skin had turned the ashy grey of one deathly pale, a sheen of sweat gleaming on his forehead and cheeks. His hands were clenched into fists at his sides, blue veins protruding greatly, his form seemed to stiffen and round over so that he resembled a statue more than a man, and his eyes were glassed over with flashbacks I knew were rushing through his mind at a hundred miles per hour. I recognized the signs of what was happening but had never seen them in his fully waking hours, and it frightened me to think of what could happen to him if they progressed.

“Loki.” I approached with caution, bringing him back to reality with gentle touches on his shoulders, one of his safe points during an episode such as this. “We should go. I’m sure we can remedy this problem from the outside. Investigating from the inside isn’t worth this.”

“No, we can’t.” His intentions were clear, but his eyes and voice were still far away. “There are citizens trapped here. I’m not leaving them behind, and subjecting them to… to what I went through.”

“I understand that, and that’s incredibly honorable of you. I’m very proud of you, but I’ll say this now: if this becomes to be too much, we’re going to leave, and we’re going to call Sif to come and help the civilians out instead.”

“I’m not going to call someone else in to fulfill my responsibility. I’ll not be that weak.”

“Loki, you’re not weak. You endured a fate worse than hell for an extended amount of time and had no support system afterwards. Most people have worse reactions to much less. Yes, you may have PTSD as a result, but you survived. The way you live with it proves that you are far from weak. You lead a fairly normal Midgardian life in the very city you tried to destroy, you’re involved in planning a wedding for yourself, and you’re directly in line for the throne of Asgard. And most important of all, you’re pushing through the repercussions of that hell by coming dangerously close to the source to prevent people who are ultimately insignificant to you from going through the same thing. Others may not recognize it, but you’re truly a hero now, if not in the conventional way. If the circumstances were different, people might call you an inspiration. But even if you don’t feel it, just remember that even at your darkest times, you were still my knight in shining armor, literally.”

The cloud of anxiety faded from his eyes, and I knew my reassurance had done the trick to at least partially calm him.

“Why must you always give your amazing and compelling motivational speeches at the most inappropriate times?” Loki chucked, but paused to allow his form to blur into a golden glow, his Midgardian attire fading, replaced by his worn battle armor in want of a good polishing. “Come. Let’s go find those dimwitted people and get out of here.”

“Aw, no, you just ruined it by calling them dimwitted!” I loosely linked arms with him as if we were simply taking another typical evening stroll. “And why don’t you wear your armor more often? I fall more in love with it every time I see it.”

“Well, it’s hardly appropriate to wear on Midgard, even though, in this city, people would likely never serve me a second glance.” He began to lead us down into the depths of the eerie world, the lightness of the conversation distracting from our ominous surroundings. “But we will be in Asgard soon, and I will wear some form of it every day. You shall see my promenade armor, a newly-repaired version of my battle armor, my ceremonial armor…”

I squirmed playfully. “You have to stop that. Talking about it gets me in a certain kind of mood, and I hardly think it’s appropriate to have sex on a rescue mission. Let’s focus on finding those civilians.”

“I don’t think that will be too difficult. All of the rifts open around the same place, so they can't have gone far. I do hope they’ve flocked together, because I’m in no mood to track them all down.”

I opened my mouth to scold him, but thought better of it. He was coping with the situation, and well, and I wasn’t about to ruin that. Instead I followed dutifully, reminding myself to stay serious and be on guard while still keeping the conversation light.

Loki’s prediction was ultimately correct. After ten minutes of walking in a downward spiral, the silence, penetrated only by the soft crunch of our footsteps over the rocky path, seeming to press upon our ears with all the strength of a blow from Mjolnir, we happened upon the group of those who had been pulled into the rift, appearing distressed and disheveled, huddling together under a wide shelf protruding out from a wall of black rock that was ever present to our right. We glanced down on them from above for a moment, until it was silently decided that I should approach first, and Loki follow a few paces behind. I stepped forward, and each frightened face turned to me as they realized my presence.

“Have you been sucked in, too?” one woman positioned in front of the others inquired, and I guessed that she was the unofficial leader of the band.

I shook my head, attempting to appear both comforting and authoritative all at the same time, speaking in as loud of a voice as I dared. Despite what Loki had said about the planet being nearly deserted, I still got the feeling that we were being intently watched and listened to by a dangerous force. “No. We’re actually here to get you out, and bring you home to your families.”

“We?” A wizened old man limped up from the back of the cluster. My heart wrenched with sympathy, for he seemed to require medical attention, and I had no idea how long he had been stranded there. “Who’s with you?”

Loki stepped up from behind me, and the group shrunk back, a few murmuring denials, the rest attempting to shield family members and newfound friends. I vaguely heard a small child hidden in the middle of the back begin to cry in fear. Biting my lip, I willed myself to handle the situation in a civilized manner, reaching out and seizing Lo’s hand as he attempted to walk away.

“No,” the old man protested. “This is some trick. That’s the man who opened the portal in the first place and tried to destroy the city. We’ve been captured to be his playthings. We’re probably going to end up tortured and killed just for the fun of it! And you, young lady, he’s probably captured you, too! Put you under his spell so that you can’t ever say a word against him or disobey his orders. It’s my advice to run away, and fast, while you still can. As for me, I’m going to fight. I’d rather die now than ever come under his control.” He brandished a large rock as if he meant to bash our heads in with it.

I put my hands up as a gesture of submission. “Easy, please! I’m not under any spell. I knew this man before he did anything to the city, and I have agreed to marry him willingly, because I love him with all of my heart and I know who he truly is. And if you all want to escape this alien world and return to your families, we are your only hope, because we are the only ones with the knowledge to get you out of here. I know he has a history of villainous actions in the city and that you have no reason to trust him, but I swear on everything I love and hold dear and on my word as a New Yorker, and therefore family to each and every one of you, that Loki is here to save you.”


	9. Pointless Interrogations

“Who was that at the door?” Loki inquired as I returned from the elevator landing, watching me step over to where he lounged on the sofa in order to curl up next to him.

“Just the mailman,” I replied, flipping through the small stack I carried in my hands, pausing over the latest edition of Vogue. “He had a package today and figured he’d just give us our regular stuff along with it.”

“What was in the package?”

Without looking up, I passed the narrow parcel over to him. “I think it’s the wedding invitations.”

As Loki fussed with the tape on the box, I came across the last piece of mail and stared at it contentedly, then intently, then confusedly.

“I don’t think I’ve gotten a handwritten letter in years,” I mused. “I don’t recognize who it’s from, though. Do we know a Louisa?”

Jade eyes became clouded with thought as Loki searched his memory, and he eventually shook his head. “I don’t believe so.”

“I didn’t think we did. That, however, brings up the question of why someone we don’t know would send us a letter like this.”

“Perhaps she’s got the wrong address,” he suggested.

“No, our names are clearly printed on the front.” I pointed them out, written in a neat and educated yet shy and reserved hand. “I’ll open it in a second. I’m going to go get us a snack, so you pick the movie while I’m gone.”

Tucking the letter into the pocket of my sweatshirt, I planted a kiss on the crown of Loki’s head before stepping off to the kitchen. At least every other week on my day off, we would attempt to have a movie night, and today was the first time in a while we were mellow enough to do so, still exhausted from our interdimensional excursion a week before. However, it was not yet night, rather mid-afternoon, a rich, vibrant light leaking in from the transparent walls, seeming deceptively warm for winter.

When I stepped back into the room with a tray of fruit and light cheeses, Loki’s face contorted into a childlike scowl, lips raising upward at the Cupid’s bow in disgust.

“Don’t give me that look. You like this stuff,” I scolded, taking a strawberry for myself as I studied the case of the selected movie. “I’m dancing Gamzatti tomorrow, and her temple costume bears my stomach as plain as you please. I am not looking bloated in front of 4,000 people. If you want your sweets, you’re going to have to get them yourself and keep them away from me.” With the opening credits rolling, I set the tray on the cushion next to me so that I could remove the letter from my pocket and pull back the envelope’s flap.  
Relenting and taking a piece of fruit himself, Loki noticed the paper in my hands. “I thought you weren’t going to open that until later,” he commented.

“Yeah, but I just can’t take the mystery anymore. Why would someone we don’t know send us a handwritten letter?”

“Maybe it’s fanmail for you,” he suggested.

“If it was fanmail for me, it wouldn’t have your name on it, too, and if it was fanmail for you, my name wouldn’t be on it.”

Loki shrugged. “Perhaps it’s for the both of us.”

“Maybe.” I cleared my throat, unfolding the letter. “We’ll see. Go ahead and keep the movie playing; I’ll stop you if it’s anything important.”

I focused my energy on the crisp, unornamented stationery in my hands and read:

 

Dear Miss Potts and Mr. Laufeyson,

I originally thought that writing this letter would be the most difficult thing I had ever done, but in actuality, that spot was awarded to acquiring your address. When I began to think on what I wanted to say, the words came flowing faster than I could write, and the only negative emotion I felt was shame for thinking so lowly of you without receiving the full story or truly focusing on your reforms.

In case you don’t remember me (which I imagine you don’t, I never recall exchanging names), I was the woman who addressed you first when you came to rescue those of us pulled into the alien world. I was the first one to happen upon it, and because of that, the others deemed me their leader, which I don’t think was an entirely wise decision, for I was in no way prepared for that position.

When you arrived, I had been there for four days. Most of the rest had been there for three, but for a few fortunate others it had only been two. We found a small stream somewhere from which we could drink, and around it a few sparse plants sprouted from the rocks. However, we dared not eat those for fear of poison, so we focused our energies on the stream, and eventually got our hands on two small fish. It turns out those were the only fish in that portion of the water, so we had to make each one last an entire day, divided evenly between us. Those measly bites required to make the rations work did nothing to provide us nourishment, and only increased our hunger.

By the time you arrived, we had nearly lost all hope of survival. Richard (the old man) had fallen from a small cliff, suffering from broken bones and cuts riddled with infection that would have killed him if you had come any later, and the little boy, Matthew, was sick with fever. Not to mention the fact that everyone else was nearly delirious from hunger, and so cranky and frightened that it was close to impossible to get them to work together.

But then you two arrived. I know that we were frightened at first, though you appeared as if you didn’t blame us, but each and every one of us (we’ve established a bit of a support group to discuss such things) is ashamed of how we reacted. Out of all the paths you could have taken, whether they were malicious or simply a smart one where you saved yourselves, you chose the one that led you to saving us, a large band of absent-minded humans (how else could you walk straight into a portal?) that probably don’t mean anything to you. We can’t thank you enough-

 

“Loki? I cut off from reading, scanning the rest eagerly. “You need to see this. It’s from one of the people we saved. She’s saying how sorry she is and that she believes that you’re reforming now and even offering to vouch for you- wait, why did you turn the TV off?” I shifted my gaze in his direction and noticed his stance, shoulders slightly hunched and head bent down between them, uncannily resembling an animal preparing to flee from a predator, far-off gaze betraying that he was listening closely to something.

“What’s wrong?” I questioned softly, placing a hand on his arm, admittedly for reasons more to reassure myself rather than him.

“There’s someone at our door,” he whispered, not altering his position the smallest centimeter, not even to look at me.

Simultaneously losing and gaining interest as the issue was so simple but his intent focus on it concerned me, I pressed further. “So? What’s so bad about that?”

“Unless they have a key or are buzzed in by us, no one can access this floor,” he reminded. “Sif returned to Asgard to make final preparations for our visit, and everyone else who might have a key isn’t in the city anymore. And besides, would a leisurely visitor truly stand outside in the landing instead of simply knocking or coming in?”

“Oh.” Suddenly frightened, I rose to my feet when Loki did, seeking his body as an anchor, nestling myself under his arm, which he readily wrapped around me. “Maybe it’s the building manager. They have keys to all apartments, as a rule.”

Loki shook his head once, overruling that theory. “Wouldn’t he let us know he was arriving?”

Over the course of our relationship, I had learned that being a Jotun resulted in Loki having a stronger primal and animalistic instinct than Asgardians and Midgardians combined. However, it was deeply rooted within him and he was practiced at concealing it when he needed to, so it tended to only surface if we were in true danger. That appeared to be one such time. His nostrils flared, his spine curled forward in such a way that made him seem frighteningly large, and I could slightly make out a low growl resonating from deep within his throat.

“Get behind me.” As the muffled voices carried over to us again, Loki gently pushed me around himself so that I was concealed by his form. Now trembling in fear, I clung at his shoulders for dear life.

“If I tell you to do so, I need you to promise me that you’ll go and hide without argument, no matter how much danger I’m in.” He shook me as best he could from the way we were positioned. “Promise me!”

“I- I promise,” I stuttered, praying the danger wasn’t as dire as he was making it out to be.

“Do you still have that dagger I gave you?” he demanded immediately after my answer with all of the efficiency of a drill sergeant. Too stunned at his sudden intensity to reply properly, I merely nodded. “Where is it?”

“In one of my jewelry boxes in the bedroom,” I murmured dazedly, my fingers clawing at his torso to find a resting place.

“Should I tell you to flee, I want you to go to the bedroom and get the dagger, then go into the closet. When we moved in, I used my magic to create a safe room in there, and it can be accessed by pulling away the left partner of your favorite pair of shoes. Under the heel is a small panel where you will give your fingerprint, and you will gain access to the room. Do not worry about being pursued, for I’ve enchanted it so that the safe room can only be found by the two of us. Inside the area you’ll find a bed, spare clothes, and enough supplies for a few weeks. I want you to stay in there until I come for you, and if for some reason I don’t, there’s a monitor there that reads who else is in the house. Don’t come out until that monitor has been clear for at least twenty-four hours. Do you understand?”

The sudden flood of new information broke me from my reverie. “When did you install all of that stuff?”

“That’s not presently important. Just remember your promise should I tell you to hide.”

“I will,” I reassured, though I wasn’t sure if I truly meant it. “But I still don’t know who could possibly want to break into our apartment, and why they would wait outside our door so long-”

At that moment, we distantly heard the door burst open, and into the room jogged Natasha Romanoff in full S.H.I.E.L.D. catsuit, expression apologetic. Upon her arrival, the cats, who had been previously nestled up together on the armchair, completely oblivious to the situation, hissed and spat before scampering away.

“I’m sorry,” Natasha professed genuinely with no other explanation. “But it has to be this way.”

Before Loki or I had time to question, an entire squadron of agents burst into our living space, including three in fighting gear like Natasha’s, two with their guns raised towards us, the third a dark-haired woman merely palming hers where it rested in the holster at her hip. With them was a woman in a non-combative S.H.I.E.L.D. uniform including a badge stating she was medical staff, and to top it all off, Steve Rogers in a more practical variation of his famous star-spangled suit, looking none too pleased to be in our penthouse. Whether that was because of the circumstances or me and Loki, I couldn’t tell.

“Drop your weapon,” he ordered calmly, but all traces of the friendliness he had previously displayed towards us were erased, and he seemed almost a different person. I was about to point out that we had no weapons, until I cast my eyes downward and realized that Loki’s own dagger had appeared in his hand.

“Not until your friends lower theirs,” Loki snarled, free hand pushing me even further behind him, his grip on the hilt of his blade becoming ever tighter.

The dark haired woman then cocked and raised her own gun. “We asked first.”

“Those at S.H.I.E.L.D. should know by now that bullets do not harm me, but I’ll not drop my defenses until every threat against my bride-to-be is neutralized.”

“Loki, it’s alright.” Reaching forward, I placed my hand on Loki’s wrist and guided his hand down to his side. Sure enough, the agents did the same, leaving me an opportunity to speak to those I knew.

“So, Natasha, Steve,” I began, eyeing them warily. “What’s the issue that requires S.H.I.E.L.D. to send two of their best and most famous agents, along with backup, to resolve?”

“Three, actually,” Steve corrected, effectively dodging my inquiries. The dark haired woman stepped forward, nearly matching him in height. “This is Maria Hill. She’s one of the most executive field agents in all of S.H.I.E.L.D.”

“It’s nice to meet you, but that didn’t exactly answer my question.”

“We’re here to interrogate the two of you,” Maria answered, tone of voice light, but not in a way that warranted relaxation or leisure. “Loki has a track record for violence, so a lot of precautions had to be taken. This was actually the smallest squad we would be able to put together for this mission, and only on the condition that I was present. We hope to do this civilly, and if any sort of aggression occurs on your or Loki’s part, we’ll be forced to bring the two of you in.”

“And what is this interrogation concerning?” Loki queried in a way that demanded an answer, fixing the mismatched group with such an unnerving stare I was relieved to not be on the receiving end. The agents faltered in their stances meant to intimidate, shrinking into small, unthreatening positions, averting their eyes and shuffling around, and even Steve began to go pale and eventually looked away. However, Natasha and Agent Hill appeared outwardly unabashed, their training doing them good.

“We came to discuss your recent visit to the Chitauri world,” Natasha answered, unwavering.

“What about it? We submitted a report,” I reminded. “It went exactly like we said it did: we were taking a walk one afternoon and accidentally passed between worlds via the scattered rifts. In our quest to find the portal that led back to Earth we happened upon the group of citizens trapped there, and took them with us as we left, sealing the rifts behind us. We submitted the report just in case there were any open portals that we missed so that you would be informed. What is there to question about?”

“That report has put S.H.I.E.L.D. on red alert,” Agent Hill explained, a scolding tone creeping into her voice. “It’s expected that Loki opened the rifts himself, and has been returning to the Chitauri world to rally his army once more and make a second attempt at subjugating the human race.”

My brows knitted together in confusion, mouth falling slightly agape at the audacity of the accusation. “Why would we file such a report if those were truly our intentions?”

“Loki has a reputation for showmanship and voluntarily telling his enemies bits of his plans, but doing it in ways that work to his advantage,” Natasha elaborated. “This could be one such instance.”

“If that was the case, what about the citizens we discovered and saved?” I pressed, crossing my arms over my chest.

“The theory with that is that they were people Loki brought there to put under mind control, and then release into the world to do his bidding,” Hill informed.

“He doesn’t even have his scepter to do that anymore. In fact, it’s in your possession,” I countered.

“Thor told us he has other ways,” Steve put in softly, looking up at me from a lowered chin and choosing his next words carefully, speaking haltingly. “It’s even highly suspected that he has you under mind control.”

“What?” For the first time since our uninvited guests arrived, I burst from my halfway concealed position behind Loki and stormed to the center of the room, my words spewing out in harsh screams resembling that of a child that had not yet learned how to control her temper. “What in the actual hell makes you think that?”

“You seem to look past every single one of the terrible things he’s done in the past,” Steve pointed out. “You’re by his side at every second. You defend him fiercely at each and every insult delivered against his character. It’s evident that you practically worship him.”

“That’s called being in love, dumbass,” I hissed, making quite a spectacle of myself. “I swear, no matter what you do, no matter what test you do on me, you will never find any sort of mind controlling effects on my brain or body. I do those things for Loki because I choose to, and because I love him and want nothing more than for him to be happy.”

“Do you mind if we take you up on your word?” Maria motioned for the medic to step forward. “Since the instances of Loki enslaving a good portion of our agents with his abilities, we developed a serum intended to not only detect but flush out any influence of mind control.”

“If that’s what it’s going to take to get you to believe me I will absolutely consent. We have nothing to hide,” I declared. “And think on this: if Loki truly had me under mind control, he wouldn’t allow me to agree to this.”

The rest of the group fell silent, but the medic motioned for me to meet her halfway as she approached, one of the lesser agents following to cover her.

“You might want to sit on the sofa,” she prompted kindly. “This is pretty powerful stuff.”

I did as I was told and she settled down next to me, reaching into a bag she carried with her.

“Can you roll up your sleeve for me, please?” she requested, producing a thick and, quite frankly, frightening syringe, causing Loki to take a step forward, rage and concern evident upon his face.

“No, no, absolutely not,” he roared, and as he made to come to me every gun in the room was cocked and raised to him.

Steve flashed me a pointed look. “If you were under mind control, he wouldn’t let us do this test, you said?”

“Why must you read so far into this? He’s protective, and doesn’t want anyone to hurt me. Another bit of being in love.” Infuriated beyond belief, I turned to the medic. “Go ahead.”

She inserted the serum into my arm with a painful, burning prick, but I could sense Loki’s fear for me and because of it forced myself to stay calm. I could feel the strangely thick liquid blend into my bloodstream where it pumped lazily for a few moments, accompanied by tense silence from the room’s inhabitants, until the world about me went fuzzy. I attempted to say something to the medic but my body refused to respond to my commands, and the last thing I heard was Loki shouting before everything went black.

***

When I came to, I was curled up on a small and only partly comfortable bed in a compact, closed-off room in the back of an aircraft, attended only by the medic and Natasha.

“What happened?” I muttered groggily. “Where am I?”

“You’re in a plane on the way to S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters,” Natasha explained. “When the serum took effect and you passed out, Loki went ballistic. He put one of the sentry agents in the infirmary, so we were forced to bring the two of you in.”

“The test was negative, by the way,” the medic added, and the expression on her face did me no favors on determining how she felt about that. From what I had gathered, she seemed to be the type that was outwardly cheerful no matter the situation.

“Loki.” I shot upright. “Loki, where is he? I need to see him; he’s probably losing his mind with worry right now.”

“We’re under orders to not let you two have any contact until we get this straightened out,” Natasha relayed, and her cadence became hesitant. “Orders I agree with.”

“How can you…” I trailed off. “Don’t you remember what I told you about Loki at the party? Why wouldn’t that make you believe what I’m saying is true?”

“I do remember, but no one else here heard that conversation, and frankly…” she heaved a sigh. “Steve will explain the rest. He just finished questioning Loki, and that didn’t necessarily go well.”

“Even if I can’t talk to him, is there some way I could see him?” I pleaded, frightened by the notion of what an interrogation gone wrong meant.

“If you feel steady enough to stand, there’s a window right there.” Natasha directed me to the door of my holdings, prompting me to immediately began to pull myself to my feet. As soon as my grounding was sturdy, I rushed up to it and glanced through the glass panel placed towards the top of the steel, peering outwards intently. 

Loki was hunched over defensively, dwarfing one of the many small seats mounted to the walls of the cargo area of the craft, brow furrowed in worry, index finger running across his lips. His eyes were fixed on some elusive spot in the distance and I knew his mind was clouded with worry over my wellbeing, so I tapped gently on the glass in order to get his attention. Relief flooding his features, he attempted to stand to meet me at the door, but restraints about his shoulders and arms prevented him from doing so. I flashed him an understanding look and blew him a kiss in assurance that I was alright, but had to leave my observation perch when Steve entered the room.

“You better not have hurt Loki during that interrogation,” I barked sharply before he could even open his mouth.

Steve took a step back, a stunned look widening his features. “Where would you get an idea like that?”

“Natasha said that the questioning didn’t go well.”

“In the way that we could get no information out of him. We didn’t torture him. We’re not going to torture you, either, and I’m hoping that your session is more successful.” He lowered his broad form into the last vacant chair beside the bed I occupied earlier, holding his hand out towards the stretcher. “Please, sit.”

I complied, settling down and coaching myself to not get angry no matter what was said to me.

“As I’m sure you know; the test was negative. You were never under any effects of mind control.”

“Just like I told you it would be.”

Steve ignored my snide comment. “However, that poses more problems than it solves. It only brings a nastier theory to the position of frontrunner.”

I buried my face in my palm. “Why must everything be such a bad thing with you people? Can’t you just leave well enough alone?”

“The moment we think something is alright is the moment when something bad happens.”

The sentiment was so jarringly true that I couldn’t summon up a retort, and instead motioned for Steve to continue.

“The theory is that you not only know of Loki’s plans for a second Battle of New York, but are also his accomplice, assisting him in achieving success in that. Some at S.H.I.E.L.D. believe that the report you wrote and all of the good comments you make on his character are just a way to throw us off the path.”

“If Loki was trying to do that, that would probably the most plausible theory, given that we’re to be married, so I’ll give you that much. However, Loki no longer has imperialistic intents, and only wants to assist in defeating an impending character that is bigger than all of us.”

Steve leaned back in his seat, studying me wryly. Although his next words carried a bite, his tone was quite friendly and conversational, almost joking in nature. “See, now, that sounds like a threat.”

“It’s not, but unfortunately the explanation requires a story that isn’t mine to tell. In the meantime, dealing with our present issues, I know you’re not going to let us go unless you get the truth of the situation, but when you’re told the truth you don’t believe it. No one but me or Loki knows what our intents are, so unless you mean to imprison us for the rest of our lives, I don’t know what you mean to do. If you can’t just trust us, I imagine the only resolution is a method of gross 24/7 surveillance, which won’t be fun for either of us- wait a second.” During my ramblings, my hand had dipped into my sweatshirt pocket, my fingers brushing against Louisa’s letter. With an exclamation of success, I pulled it out and passed it over to Steve. “Here’s some outside evidence. A thank-you letter from one of the victims we saved last week, vouching for the goodness of Loki’s character.”

Steve took a good moment to read the letter, but when he finished, he looked up at me with a stretched mouth and lowered brows as an expression of apology.

“I’m sorry, but there’s no way to tell that-”

“-she hasn’t been mind controlled,” I finished, sensing a pattern. “She did offer to vouch for him in any way possible, so I’m sure you could administer the serum you used for me on her. Hell, I’m pretty sure you could use it on that entire support group.”

Steve rose from his chair, and it was at that moment I realized that he truly wanted to be on our side, or at least neutral ground, but all influences around him were screaming that it was safer for him to do otherwise.

“I’ll see what I can do,” he eventually promised, and left me with Natasha and the medic once more, the two of whom I had forgotten were present.

After a few moments of terse silence, Natasha eventually joined me on the stretcher.

“You know we want to believe you, right?” she inquired softly. “It’s just that Loki is known for lying, and him doing a complete character 180 like that seems a bit implausible. I would like to take your word for it, but despite our beginning friendship, I don’t know you well enough to do so yet.”

“I find that hard to believe,” I chuckled. “My involvement with Loki has obviously put me on S.H.I.E.L.D. files, so you probably know all about me.”

“Well I know the technical stuff, but I don’t know you.” Natasha’s lips rounded into a genuine smile. “I know your birthday and blood type, but I don’t know, say, your RPG alignment.”

My chuckle escalated into a full-on laugh. “Even I don’t know that. Since Loki’s settled down a bit he’s adapted more of a Chaotic Neutral alignment, but I think mine changes from day to day, frustratingly.”

Steve chose that moment to arrive again, breaking up the much-needed bout of light conversation.

“I spoke with Hill, and she’s going to send a squad to this Louisa woman to administer the serum,” he began. “Unfortunately they have to send out a consent form first, and then the squad isn’t even going to leave D.C. until tomorrow morning. Until we get that evidence, we can’t let you go, so I’m sorry, but I think you and Loki will be spending the night in cells. Nice ones, but still cells.”

“There must be some other way that you can be sure what I’m saying is true,” I tutted, but soon enough a brilliant idea popped into my head. “S.H.I.E.L.D. is one of the most technologically advanced organizations in the world. Surely you have some sort of truth serum.”

Steve cast a glance to the medic, and she nodded in reply.

“I have some of it with me right now, actually.”

“Perfect,” I appeased. “You can administer the serum and ask me what you want to know, being completely sure that I’m telling the truth.”

“Can we do that?” Steve turned to his companions. Natasha shrugged, but the medic was eager to do it regardless.

I settled back down on the bed, rolling up my sleeve for her once more. “Let’s do this.”

“So how exactly does this work?” Steve questioned as the medic inserted the needle in my arm and I attempted to keep my wincing to a minimum. “When it starts to take effect, she can’t lie?”

“Not exactly,” the medic replied. “Technically speaking, it’s scientifically impossible to prevent someone from lying, but until only recently we thought the same thing of mind control and the like, but that’s another discussion for another time. This serum is sort of primitive, and I’m sure it will be improved later. 

“It draws upon the fact that good liars are good liars because they are very calm when telling the lie, and it is almost second nature to them. They’re able to easily control signs that would give away the lie, most without even realizing they’re doing it. Bad liars, on the other hand, are that way because the idea of telling a lie makes them very nervous and almost frightened, therefore impairing their ability to apply any methods that would make their lie believable. This serum triggers anxiety and fear so intense at the notion of a lie that she will tell the truth to simply alleviate those feelings. However, if she does, for some reason, attempt to tell a lie, it will be very obvious.”

“Sort of like a lie detector machine without the machinery,” I commented.

“Exactly!” The medic grinned in approval, glancing down at her watch. “Alright. It should be working by now, so you can start asking questions. Be quick about it, though, because you only have an hour until it wears off.”

“Natasha, are you recording this?” Upon the her nod, Steve returned to his seat and searched my face. “Does Loki truly intend to reform from his previous evil actions?”

“Yes,” I replied simply.

“How do you know that he’s not lying to you?”

“Because I know what his ambition is like when it’s sincere, and I know what it’s like when he’s lying. I’ve been up close and personal with each situation, and he is definitely sincere in this one.”

“So his intentions in the Chitauri world were truly as you wrote them to be?”

“Correct.”

“But what is this sudden need for heroic action and reform that you talk about so much for? Why is he doing it?”

“Well, for one, he wants to detach himself from a traumatic past, and he wants your respect and confidence so that when that past comes knocking, you’ll be able to effectively work together and save the world as you always do, though he’s begrudging to admit that he even needs you at all. But after what Tony said when he was drunk and a conversation with Natasha and Pepper, I realized that it’s going to take a lot more than befriending to convince you that he’s changed, and that he’s going to have to prove himself through consistent heroic and noble actions. 

“To avoid becoming a vigilante, because that never seems to turn out well, and despite his protests, I hacked into S.H.I.E.L.D. communications to access mission orders. We would send the ones we chose not to take off to their intended recipient, but when the portal situation came along, we knew it was the perfect one for us. Loki suspected that you would react the way you did to what we were doing, but he knew he was the only one who would be able to actually fix the problem, so he took the mission anyway. 

“When we arrived, I realized how dangerous it was for him to be there, for reasons that are, again, not mine to tell, but even though I encouraged him to leave, he refused to do so until all of the citizens were back on Earth and safe. Once we got back, I filed that report so that you would be aware of what he did, but not that I hacked into S.H.I.E.L.D.”

Stunned silence followed my speech, and finally Steve spoke up.

“You say this was the first mission you took?’

“Yes. And I can reverse all of the alterations to communications that I made, or you can arrest me for hacking, whatever. I don’t really care. Just stop blaming Loki for things that he didn’t do. People change. They learn from their mistakes. He’s just trying to figure out who he is in the midst of a life that’s had some low points you can’t even imagine.”

More silence came over us, and eventually Steve rose from his seat.

“I have to get this tape to Hill,” he mumbled, retrieving it from Natasha as he left, and the medic handed me a pill to make the serum wear off quicker.

“It’s strange,” Natasha observed as I swallowed it, studying me as a detective might study a piece of evidence. “That serum is intended to induce nothing but fear, but you remained completely calm the entire time.”

“Isn’t it obvious? The serum induces fear at the notion of a lie.” I stared directly into her eyes with matched intensity. “I was telling the truth the entire time.”

This time it was Hill who joined us in the room, Steve trailing behind.

“I wanted to apologize personally,” she explained. “I’m so sorry for all of the inconveniences this has caused. It won’t happen again.”

“No, I understand. It’s perfectly alright.”

“We’re turning the plane around so we can drop you off back at your home, and Loki is being released from his restraints. You can go see him now.”

As she turned to leave, I called for her to return.

“Would you like me to take myself off of the S.H.I.E.L.D. communications?” I questioned wryly, cocking my head to the side.

“Actually, I think you should stay on them. Just inform us first if you decide to take a mission to avoid running into this situation again.” With a wink, Hill returned to the controls.

Feeling entirely relieved, satisfied, and as if immense progress had been made in that night, I grinned broadly as I exited the private room, dashing straight into Loki’s arms.


	10. Asgardian Arrival

“As much as I love this crazy city, it’s always nice to get out of it.”

“I’m just ready to get out of this damn realm, period,” Loki muttered, loading his bag into the trunk of the car and settling down in front of the steering wheel. “How can you not still be angry with S.H.I.E.L.D after what they did?”

“I’m still angry,” I insisted, sliding into the passenger’s seat. “It’s just… Don’t take this the wrong way, but I understand why they did what they did.”

“How could you-”

“Just hear me out, okay?” I interrupted as the engine roared to life. “It does look suspicious that we went back to the Chitauri world. Wouldn’t you react the same way if you were on the other end of this situation? They’d rather be safe, and I get that. Besides, it’s my fault, anyway. I pushed you into the whole hero scheme and then basically forced you to go and take that mission. Only I wasn’t helping you, just putting you in danger and nearly ruining your good standing.”

“Don’t scold yourself. You had good intentions.” Tipping the valet through the rolled-down window, Loki drove off from our building, offering his hand for me to hold.

“On the bright side of the situation,” I offered up, “at least they believe our good intentions now.”

“And what was that belief bought with? Truth serum?” Loki scoffed in disgust. “I’m not sure I even care about redemption anymore. They can all be damned to Hel when Thanos comes.”

“Please, let’s not discuss that right now,” I requested gently. “This is practically our vacation, and a lot of wedding plans will be finalized on this trip. I’d rather not spend it arguing.”

Stuck at a stoplight, Loki leaned over to kiss my cheek. “You’re right. I’m very glad to be going home, and I’d hate to be the spoiler of my own happiness.”

Much to my relief, the next hour or so of driving was spent engaging in light conversation over small wedding details, and our moods were considerably brighter when we arrived at the Bifrost reception site. After retrieving our almost unnecessary bags, Loki cast a spell over the car so that it would be hidden yet still there when we returned and called for Heimdall, who responded promptly.

After the thrill of a ride I was not yet used to, Loki’s arm dropped from where it had previously been latched around my waist, and I opened my eyes to the gatekeeper’s observatory.

“Lady Camryn,” Heimdall greeted, golden eyes glinting with a smile that never quite reached his lips. “Welcome back.”

“It’s been too long since I’ve seen you last,” I mused in return. “I hope you can join us for dinner sometime during our stay. I’d like to catch up.”

“As much as I’d enjoy that, my lady, great measures would have to be taken in order for that to occur. I’m not to leave my post unless the Bifrost is closed.”

“If that’s the case, when do you sleep?” I questioned, half-joking.

Heimdall chuckled. “That is a secret, my lady.”

As I playacted at pouting, Loki approached the gatekeeper and the two embraced hands briefly, both grinning broadly.

“It is a shame we won’t be able to catch up properly because of those terms,” Loki confessed. “I’ve half a mind to bring a picnic out here some night. After all, it seems unfair that you should know everything Camryn and I have done since our last visit and we haven’t a clue about you.”

“Oftentimes I think I know a bit too much about what the two of you have done, Your Highness.” Heimdall fixed us with a knowing stare, drawing a blush to my cheeks. “And those plans can be finalized in due time. Your ride to the palace is waiting.”

Agreeing that it was best to not delay the driver for long, Loki and I exited the sanctuary to approach the vehicle that would take us to the Palace of Asgard: a small, discreet, pod of an aircraft that would smuggle us into the building unnoticed, seeing as we were not at all properly dressed for Asgard.

As we took our seats and waited to be driven away, I reflected upon Loki’s relationship with Heimdall. After the gatekeeper had tentatively forgiven Loki for his actions, he became very understanding of his troubles and what drove him to do what he did in New York, Heimdall being the only one other than Loki himself that actually witnessed what drove Loki to the actions of a madman. In our visits since then, the two gradually redeveloped the friendship they had in Loki’s youth, and that rekindled alliance was starting to cause Loki to become more highly revered and treated with greater kindness in Asgard, and I was glad for it.

After the short ride, the pod deposited us onto one of the palace’s internal landing pads, where a small group awaited our arrival. That group included two Einherjar, Loki’s longtime valet, and Voa, the woman who served as my lady’s maid during my visits. As I exited the aircraft she immediately approached to embrace me, an action that was permitted, for even though I was technically to be treated as a duchess on Asgard, I was not yet official royalty.

“How lovely to see you again, my lady,” she declared, reaching out and relieving me of my bag. “Is there anything I can help you with?”

“Only changing, I think,” I replied. “Do you know when luncheon is scheduled for?”

“The kitchen staff has already prepared it and is keeping it hot until you are ready for it.”

“Perfect.” I turned to Loki. “Are you going to come get changed, as well?”

“I’m afraid I haven’t the time.” After dismissing his valet, Loki stepped up and planted a parting kiss on my temple, his mood higher than I had seen it in ages. “I imagine I ought to let the Council know of our arrival.”

He only paused to magically change into the promenade armor of his younger years before striding away with the guards in tow, leaving only me and Voa to make the lengthy trek to his chambers, which I now shared with him. There we immediately descended into a closet put in just for me, where I hastily selected a slim-cut golden gown so dark it was almost brown, and the two of us chatted as I was laced up into it.

“I hope you haven’t been too terribly bored,” I commented. “It must be strange to assist Queen Frigga full-time and then only have work to do every so often when I come.”

“Oh, I find things to do,” Voa assured. “I’ll often help the dressmakers, though they don’t have too much work to do, either, and if I get incredibly desperate, I’ll relieve the housemaids of some of their duties. Sometimes I’m grateful for the reprieve, for I went to Vanaheim to visit my family not long ago, though I’ve found that I need to keep busy. I’ve had opportunities to act as a proper lady’s maid when guests come for balls and festivities, but that hasn’t been too often lately, what with the queen gone. The king attempts to organize things, but he’s so poor at it that even annual and ceremonial celebrations have been cancelled in the recent years. The truth is…” She broke off.

“Speak freely, please. I’d like to know.” Now secured into the gown, I turned to face her, clasping her hands in mine briefly.

Voa proceeded hesitantly. “King Odin hasn’t been the same since Queen Frigga passed on. He’s constantly ill and his mind seems to have left him, leaving barely a shell of a man to lead the Nine Realms. He truly isn’t fit to rule anymore. The healers say that he is so mentally and physically weak that it’s likely he won’t wake from the Odinsleep he’s in currently, and as much as I hate to be disloyal, I hope that’s the truth, for I can’t go on in this purgatorial state for much longer.”

“Don’t get down on yourself for disloyalty. I’m very grateful for your honesty.” I stepped up to the full-length mirror propped up in the corner, arranging my hair to suit the gown, trying to hide the fact that my heart was soaring at the prospect of Odin truly dying. “As good of an informant as the Lady Sif is, it’s difficult to get her to reveal unpopular feelings and opinions.”

“You did order me to speak freely.” Voa smiled coyly, taking the initiative to reach up and braid a few pieces of hair back away from my face. “It’s treasonous to not follow an order.”

“Not quite with me,” I countered. “I’m not royalty yet.”

“Not yet, but soon. All of the staff is very excited to have a proper queen in the palace again.” Voa secured her simple design with rings of gold, and as she did so I startled myself, realizing how early on I was starting to get used to Asgard during this visit. My first few trips it had been dreadfully awkward to get used to a lady’s maid attending to me, I would be immensely puzzled when people would pause to curtsy or bow to me in the halls and blown away by the fact that not twenty-four hours before I had been affixing a headpiece of plastic and rhinestones to my hair, only to trade it in for accessories of true gold and precious jewels, and my heart would soar every time I would get laced into a gown or looked over the towering balconies at the beautiful city. It was bittersweet, now that those things seemed entirely routine, but I only took it to mean that I was truly ready to marry Loki and become a part of Asgard.

“We’d best be off,” Voa interrupted my thoughts. “For your sake, I’d hate to keep the kitchen staff waiting any longer. The head cook can be quite crotchety when put through trouble, and I’d hate for you to eat food contaminated with spittle.”

Voa escorted me to the private luncheon room and took her place standing by the wall (a rule of etiquette I found very ridiculous; I would have no need of her, so shouldn’t she be able to leave?) as one server sprung to pull out my chair for me and another presented me with the amuse-bouche.

“His Highness Prince Loki instructed us to inform you to not wait for him,” the server that handed me my plate declared. “He said he’s no idea when his meeting with the Council will be through.”

Though the young servant’s relayed message turned out to be quite unnecessary, for before the last syllable had even passed through his lips, Loki was striding through the doors and taking his seat beside me.

“Apparently that went quicker than expected,” I commented, slightly taken aback.

Loki tucked a bit of hair back into place behind his ears and picked up the proper fork, unknowingly guiding me in doing the same and saving me a bit of embarrassment. “It didn’t even go at all. The Council was in a meeting and I didn’t wish to interrupt, so I told the guard standing outside to inform them of our arrival when they’ve finished.”

“Did you get to at least see Sif and thank her for helping get us here?”

“No, she was in session with them. I imagine I’ll come across her sometime soon, so I’m not terribly concerned.” Loki dismissed the subject and sipped from his wine goblet. “Shall we return to the topic of why we’ve come and discuss our plans for the week?”

“What plans did you have in mind?” I questioned, forgetting the etiquette that was not yet second nature and leaning forward to rest my chin on my fists.

“Well, we’ll have to set aside a day for wedding planning, but other than that I had hoped for horseback riding through the forest, stargazing on the Bifrost, touring the gardens, visiting the city…”

“My, my, Mr. Laufeyson, you are quite the romantic.”

“Isn’t that why you agreed to marry me?” He leaned over to kiss my forehead. “I figured we’d start with the horseback riding this afternoon. It’s not much of a fuss to get the horses ready, and I’d really like to visit Sleipnir.”

“I’m perfectly content with that plan. Once we finish this meal, I’ll go right up and change into something more appropriate for the activity.”

That, however, was apparently not destined to happen, for as the servers began to lay out the second course, they were interrupted by the Royal Council of Asgard entering the room: a bothersome group of wizened old men in golden robes with constant looks of disapproval. They were so closed-minded and horrible in character that Loki had, in fact, told me numerous times that he meant to dismiss each and every one of them once he became king and reform the Council into a group more suited to his liking and views.

“Ah,” Loki greeted, masterfully masking his annoyance. “I see you’ve received my message.”

“We have,” the great bald one closest to us intoned. “And we’ve come to inform you that you are to attend meetings with us this afternoon.”

“Haven’t you been in session all morning?”

“Yes, but even though we are in charge whilst the king is unconscious, since you are next in line for the throne, we are required to collect your opinion on certain subjects when it is available.”

A sigh of exasperation escaped Loki’s lips. “I intended to spend this afternoon showing my fiancée the land that she’s going to rule with me someday. Can’t this wait, gentlemen?”

“I’m afraid it can’t. You will attend if we have to drag you kicking and screaming.”

“You stated earlier that I’m next in line for the throne, so doesn’t that make me above you on the chain of command? You have no right telling me what to d-”

“Loki, it’s alright,” I cut in. As much as I despised them, the Council was not a group one wanted to get on the bad side of. “I’ll need some time away from you to commission my wedding gown, anyway, if the dressmakers are free to do so.” I looked to Voa for conformation, and she grinned and nodded once.

“I suppose you’re correct, as always.” With a resigned intake of breath, Loki relented easier than I thought, though I believed it was because he remembered how horrible the Council could be when angered, leaning in for a parting kiss before rising from his seat. “Don’t have too much fun without me.”

***

“Will that be all, my lady?”

“Yes. I think I’m done with you for the night.” I beamed at Voa from where she had just finished running me a bath. “Go get some sleep.”

“As you wish. Good night, my lady.” As she curtsied and left the room, I stepped over to the wooden tub large enough to be a swimming pool, shedding my dressing gown and stepping into the warm water. As I situated myself and thought back on the day, I closed my eyes and nearly trembled with excitement, reflecting on the wedding gown design I had created with the dressmakers.

“You’ve already gotten comfortable, I see.”

The sudden comment startled me for a moment, but when I opened my eyes and discovered that it was only Loki, I was unfazed.

“You did tell me through multiple servants not to wait for you,” I reminded, locating a bar of soap. “Your valet brought in a dinner tray for you, since you missed the formal dining opportunity.”

Loki poked his head into the next room and noticed it lying on the side table but disregarded it, his armor materializing as he stepped into the tub next to me.

“I’m not quite hungry,” he decided.

“Well, then, I just might have to eat it for you. The lamb was delicious tonight, though eating by myself was dauntingly lonely.” To make up for it, I treaded over to the other side of the tub where he sat, curling into his chest. “How was the council meeting?”

“Tedious.” Loki’s lip curled in distaste. “I’m quite upset that you didn’t help me get out of it. I thought you were supposed to be on my side.”

“You know I am. I just had to find some time when I knew you would be occupied to meet with the dressmakers, and that seemed like the perfect opportunity for it.”

“Why do you have to select your gown so privately?”

“Come on, you know it’s bad luck for the groom to see the dress before the wedding.”

His eyes rolled towards the engraved ceiling playfully. “Midgardians and their traditions, I swear. After all we’ve been through, I don’t think me seeing a dress before it’s time will put us off.”

“I’m sure, but you know how much of a traditionalist I am. I like to do things properly, like I’ve been dreaming about ever since I was a little girl.”

“Well, I can respect that.” Loki let his head fall back onto the rim of the tub. “Did you try on many things today?”

“No, I just submitted the design. The head dressmaker should have it finished by the end of the week, though, so I’ll be able to see how it looks like on me then.” I tilted my head back to glance at Loki, hooking my index finger over his chin. “And you mustn’t cheat and look at it. Not even by magic.”

“I can’t have a sneak peek?” His eyes glimmered and his lips pouted, for he knew exactly what he was doing to me.

“If you try anything, I’ll call Thor up here to trap you with Mjolnir.”

Loki purposely remained nonplussed in an almost exaggerated way. “Oh, well now I’m really frightened.”

“Be serious!” I pleaded. “This is important to me. Promise you won’t peek.”

“Well, if it truly means that much to you,” Loki leaned in and kissed me deeply, “I promise.”


	11. Direction and Decisions

“So it is to your liking, my lady?”

“Oh, more than that.” Swiveling my hips to hear the satisfying swish of my wedding gown, I let my hands fall to the full skirt as it settled. It had been crafted from a fabric that didn’t exist on Midgard, which flowed beautifully yet was still stiff enough to retain any desired shape with not much assistance, and it caught the light in such a way that it seemed to glow from within.

“I love it. It’s just as I dreamed it would be.” I felt tears begin to prick the backs of my eyes once more as I gazed at the mirror took in the image of myself as a bride, and Sif dutifully passed me a handkerchief. I had been in the dress for nigh on half an hour, and was still in a compromised emotional state because of it.

The head dressmaker, Froa, beamed proudly as she brushed imaginary lint off of my backside and motioned for her assistants to bring forth the coordinating veil, stepping carefully around the lengthy train.

“I’m quite pleased, my lady. You had such a specific idea in your head, and I feared I would make some mistake.”

“No, I promise you, this is absolutely per-”

I was interrupted by Voa suddenly bursting into the room, cheeks red from exertion.

“I’m sorry for cutting this short, my lady,” she gasped out, “but Prince Loki was just spotted coming this way.”

“Oh, no!” I exclaimed in panic, Froa’s two assistants ushering me back behind the changing screen as she, Voa, and Sif banded together to fend off my snooping fiancé.

“Loki, you promised you wouldn’t try and peek,” I whined as the doors groaned on their hinges and his confident footsteps clicked closer and closer. I silently prayed he wasn’t using some sort of spell to see through the screen.

“I know, my love, but I simply couldn’t resist one more try.” I heard the mischievous grin in his voice as he attempted to poke his head around one of the wooden stands, accompanied by three sets of footsteps coming over to block his way. He chuckled deeply, enjoying the game.

“I’ll meet you outside, darling. Our horses are saddled and waiting.”

“Oomph, I’d better hurry,” I commented to the girls hastily helping me out of the dress, and they made quick work of slipping me back into the riding gown I’d picked out that morning. Froa readied my wedding garb for transport and passed it off to Sif, who promised me that she would make sure that we were completely out of the hall before carrying it off. I thanked her and the rest of them once more for their help and the absolutely amazing dress, brushing my fingers over the bodice through the flaps of the garment bag once more before allowing it to be zipped away.

When I stepped out to meet Loki, he attempted to peek over my shoulder at the blessedly covered gown, prompting me to spread my palm over his eyes. He took a surprised step back before cracking a wolfish grin, taking my wrist and pulling my hand away.

“Don’t I get a little hint?” he teased as we began our trek to the stables. “Just tell me something small. What sort of neckline does it have?”

“I’m not telling you anything,” I insisted. “I want it to be a complete surprise.”

“Ah, just as well. I’ll simply have to come look at it while you’re away doing something else. I’ll create some sort of diversion, say… an emergent consultation with the florist, and I will be too busy to attend it with you.”

“You will not. I’ve already taken precaution against that,” I assured, jutting my nose up in pride at my anticipative efforts. “The gown isn’t going to be left here, but it’s not coming to the penthouse, either. Sif is taking it to my parents’ house, because I know that if I had it even in the same city as you, you’d peek. And don’t think about paying Mom and Dad a leisurely visit and offhandedly asking to see it. They won’t let you, either.”

“Why take it to Midgard if we’ll be married here first?”

“Because then you would just order the servants to show you, and they’d have to obey since you’re of higher power than I am.” I stuck my tongue out. “In this situation, I wanted to take said power away from you.”

“How cruel!” he teased, face animated. “There might not even be a wedding, because I could very well die from the suspense.”

I nudged his shoulder with mine. “Oh, I think you’ll be just fine, you big drama king.”

Sharing a bout of childlike giggles, we linked hands and emerged into the wonderfully sunny day, the light reflecting off of the endless gold architecture and turning the capital into a pot of molten honey with a brilliant blue lid. However, the late winter chill demanded to have its last bite, forcing me to pull my green velvet cloak, trimmed with grey fur, tighter around myself.

The walk to the stables was pleasant nonetheless, quiet and wonderfully secluded, the pathway occupied mainly by servants in charge of the animals and gardens. Loki pointed out the abundant maze of blooms across the way, reminding me that they would soon be my responsibility.

We soon came to where a groom was waiting with Sleipnir and Lightfoot, the mount I had picked the night before. She was a gorgeous dappled grey mare with towering legs that had taken quite a liking to me my first visit to the stables, and she was the one I chose to ride most often. Additionally, she was enormously faithful, faster than even eight-legged Sleipnir, and lived up to her graceful name, for she seemed to float along whatever path she trekked, her hooves almost never making a sound.

The young man holding the steeds moved to help me mount, but Loki soon swept over before the he could reach me, picking me up by the waist and placing me atop Lightfoot’s back with the utmost ease.

“I’m perfectly capable of mounting a horse myself, you know,” I reminded as he swung onto Sleipnir. “I have done it dozens of times.”

“I’m aware. You’re just fun to pick up.” Loki grinned, reaching down and patting Sleipnir’s powerful neck. He appeared to be having a stroke of kindness that day, for to save the groom embarrassment he didn’t say what he was really thinking, which I knew was some variation of I don’t want anyone else touching you any more than is necessary. The groom, who was blushing crimson regardless, simply arranged my cloak over Lightfoot’s rump before sending us off, Loki and I making for the mountainous trail that allowed us to look over the city from above.

As we rode, I cast a glance over at Loki atop Sleipnir. He always seemed happiest and the most at peace when he was with his son, relieved to have him away from Odin. The two were able to communicate with each other, Sleipnir telepathically, Loki speaking aloud, and oftentimes it took a moment for me to distinguish which of us my fiancé was talking to in those conversations. However, I didn’t mind in the slightest, for seeing Loki with his own child made me quite certain that he would be the perfect father to ours.

A few short minutes into our ride, a messenger came thundering up behind us on a barebacked roan, breathing heavily.

“Pardon me, Your Highness, my lady,” he panted. “Prince Thor has arrived suddenly and requests an immediate audience with you. He said that it concerns an urgent matter.”

Loki’s eyes flashed with quickly concealed fear. “We’ll be there with the utmost haste. Pass along orders to prepare the ground floor parlor in the East Wing for our conversation.”

My stomach dropped in fear. That parlor was the smallest and most private in all of the palace, typically not used for leisurely reasons. As the messenger rode away, I glanced up at Loki and noticed his hands twisting tightly in the reins.

“Do you have any idea what it could be about? Did Thor tell you what he’s been doing recently?”

Loki shrugged, the look in his eyes betraying that his mind was far away. “Working with the Avengers, mostly. Before we left, though, he told me that something very serious had come up and that we should be on guard. I don’t know what that something was, but I’m assuming that’s what this meeting will concern.”

I gulped. That couldn’t be good.

***

The parlor was set off of the palace’s main entrance hall, put there for urgent meetings with returning spies and diplomats. It was extremely tiny, smaller than even my closet, and contained no furniture other than four hard chairs situated around a fire pit in the center of the room and a single side table. Today, upon that surface a flagon of mulled wine and three goblets rested, however, no one touched the refreshments as Loki and I sat before Thor, who was slumped over his knees, fingers tracing his mouth and chin thoughtfully.

“What trouble have you gotten yourself into this time, brother?” Loki drawled as he settled into the chair, masking his concern.

Thor flashed him a wearily vexed look, but wasted no time in delving into his story about an artificial intelligence system that went wrong after the addition of the information and power contained in the gem from Loki’s scepter.

Loki scoffed. “I could have told you not to do that.”

“I had no part in that matter. It was purely Stark’s doing.”

“Ah. That doesn’t surprise me. He should truly stop going around calling himself ‘genius’ when, in actuality, he has the intelligence and common sense of a-”

“Loki.” I placed a hand on his leather-clad thigh to stay him.

“May I continue?” Thor cocked an eyebrow. Loki said nothing, merely inclining his head in reply.

“I had been previously shown brief glimpses of something in a vision, yet they were too fleeting to make out. I assumed at the time that what I had seen would help us understand more about Ultron and his its abilities, as well as how to shut it down, so I sought out the Norns for help.”

“And did you get the answers you were seeking?”

“Not exactly.” Thor visibly blanched, something that I had never seen him do. “What I was looking for, it… turned into so much more. I was shown these gems, hidden in other things such as the Tesseract or your scepter, even the Aether. I witnessed four of them, and though I do not know what they are, I had the strongest feeling of dread I’ve ever experienced upon seeing them. I thought that you might have knowledge of them that I do not.”

“For once in your life, brother, you’ve made a wise decision.” Loki had his last moment of snark, then began to pick and scratch at his palm, voice softer when he resumed speaking.

“There are six, actually, not just four. The Infinity Stones.” He drew in a shuddering breath. At those words, I recalled why he was behaving so strangely.

“Loki, you don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” I began. “I’m sure I can explain to some degree-”

“No, I’ll be alright.” Loki swallowed audibly, gaze dropping to his lap. “Could you just bring me some wine, please?”

As I stood to fulfill his request, Thor watched us with an expression that grew more worried by the second.

“So I was correct to be afraid of these gems,” he inferred.

“Yes.” Loki took a long drag from his goblet. “Gods, it’s painful to admit, but yes, you were correct.”

Loki then went on to slowly explain, gripping my hand the entire time, the Infinity Stones, their true nature, what they could do, the disastrous possibilities that could occur if they fell into the wrong hands, and how imperative it was that they be kept out of the possession of Thanos. Thor looked increasingly more frightened as the conversation went on, but the moment Loki’s explanation ended, the nerves faded from his face and his jaw set in determination. After thanking us for our reception and information, he said that he wished he could stay and speak more, but with his new knowledge he realized that it was essential he return to Earth as soon as possible, leaving Loki and I under a cloud of fear of a subject we had tried so hard to bury.

***

Eager to distract ourselves from the dread the meeting with Thor put in our hearts, Loki and I spent the next morning in the ceremonial hall where our wedding would take place, discussing what decorations should be used and where they should be put. It was doing a splendid job of raising our spirits until Sif entered the room, her face solemn.

“What’s wrong?” I inquired, recognizing the expression.

“The Allfather is beginning to wake from the Odinsleep,” she announced, her tone apologetic, though I could tell that she was relieved at the fact.

Rage flared in Loki’s eyes, turning them dark. “I thought the healers said that he would not recover from this one.”

“They did. They were almost sure of it, but the Odinsleep has always been temperamental, and unpredictable.”

“And convenient for Odin,” Loki added in a mutter.

“I’m truly very sorry,” Sif lamented. “It will be a while until he’s fully conscious and even then he’ll still be bedridden for a few days, but my advice is to be gone by morning before he gets word that you’ve been here.”

I felt my heart shatter.

“Thank you, Sif,” I choked out. She gave my arm a brief pat, face scrunched in sympathy, before turning away to deliver the news elsewhere, perhaps where it would be better received. The moment she was gone, Loki began to pace with long, angry strides, muttering a stream of curses under his breath, but I merely burst into tears.

“Love, what’s wrong?” He composed himself in an instant and stepped over to me, putting his hands on my shoulders, one trailing up to capture my tears on his fingers.

“This.” I gestured around to the hall we were in; at the illusions of decorations that Loki had conjured. “We can’t do this now.”

“What do you mean, darling?” Loki’s brow furrowed. “Are you saying that we can’t get married?”

“We can’t. Not here. The entire fate of our wedding rested on Odin being either in the Odinsleep or dead, because he would never let us get married if he were conscious. We made all of the consultations with the healers about the schedule of his cycle so we could be sure that both the wedding and honeymoon would happen while he was unconscious and oblivious to the situation, but now he’s screwed us over like he always does. Now it will be years before he falls into one again, and the fact that he didn’t die this time proves that he’s not as close to death as we thought. And since we made the agreement not to kill him, he’s certainly not going to be out of our way in time for the ceremony. We’ll have to postpone the one here and the one on Midgard along with it- oh, god, what am I going to tell my family?” I dissolved into a fresh bout of weeping. “I don’t want to wait that long to be married to you.”

“I don’t either, love. Not another moment.” Loki steered me towards a bench and sat me down, taking my hands and angling himself to face me. “I also don’t want our union to be on Odin’s terms. Besides, our official marriage in the eyes of Asgard brings up so many decisions and prospects that I don’t know we’re ready to face, such as the fact a war will probably be waged as they always are when a new king is put on the throne, we’ll likely have to try for heirs as soon as possible, and I’m unsure if you’re going to be able to keep up your career as a dancer and be the queen, as well. As much as I hate the man, I think what happened was the best thing.”

“So you don’t want to get married, then?” I sniffled.

“I do. More than anything. But when we get married here, we’re not going to be able to be newlyweds. It will mean our coronation and all of the responsibility that goes with it. Now, I know I’ve been lusting after the position as king for years, but I no longer have the same sense of urgency for it as I once did because I know that it’s coming to me, no matter what.

“I think if we cancelled our Asgardian ceremony until Odin truly dies, once and for all, and made our wedding on Midgard more than just routine to please your family, it would be a much better situation. We can wait to make the decisions that will go along with an Asgardian marriage until later, and our wedding on Earth can be what a wedding should be: a celebration of our love and the forming of an eternal union between us, not a heraldry of future stress and strain.” He hooked his finger under my chin and tilted it upwards, searching my face for a reaction. “What do you say? Do you agree?”

I wiped my eyes with the heel of my hand, not even bothering to hide my sloppy, schoolgirl-ish smile.

“You damn charmer.” I croaked in my tear-ridden voice, taking his face between my hands and kissed him deeply. “With that speech, of course I do.”


	12. Victory Without Reception

I both loved and hated ballet galas.

On one hand, they were unfailingly glamorous. Every year, sometimes more than once, I would appear in a gorgeous gown custom-made for me, have my hair and makeup done professionally, and get to pose on a red-carpet, cameras flashing all the while. And on the upside of that, seeing as dancers weren’t necessarily celebrities, the conduct of the press was civil. Instead of asking about which designer we were wearing or the latest gossip, our interviews usually consisted of intelligently worded questions about the parts we would be dancing or the cause money was being raised for, and the rabid paparazzi that made up the downside of a public lifestyle wasn’t something we had to fret over.

To top all of that off, Loki and I as a couple were quite popular with the crowds, especially considering that, due to his spellwork, no one had any clue that he was The Guy That Tried to Take Over the World, and he tended to instead be thought of as my suave and mysterious fiancé with a to-die-for accent. At the first gala we attended after our engagement, the press was so excited over the impending marriage that they seemed to forget all about everything else, and bade me to pose for twenty minutes with my left hand extended so that high-quality photographs of my ring could be taken. Those aspects of the annual events were downright joyful, seeing as they were some of the only times I could truly show Loki off and be his fiancée without the both of us facing incredible judgement for his past actions.

On the other hand, galas were absolutely exhausting.

While wonderful and fabulous, the initial appeal was short-lived for the dancers required to perform that night. After multiple hours of preparation, we would pose for photos and hold interviews in our high-class garb for little over sixty minutes before being swept away into the theatre, all whilst the patrons leisurely drifted over to the cocktail hour. Once inside, we would replace our couture gowns with tutus and ratty warmups, morph our intricate hairstyles into slicked-back buns, and remove our airbrushed makeup to provide room to pile layers and layers of theatrical cosmetics on top of it. From there we would push ourselves through an abbreviated and oftentimes stressful warmup, then perform an incredibly challenging piece for the highly acclaimed audience.

After becoming sufficiently sweaty and unattractively flushed, the final nerve-wracking step was to hurry back to the dressing rooms and somehow manage to return ourselves to how we appeared on the red carpet, which required a bit of magic within itself, before sprinting back downstairs in order to be punctual for dinner.

So far, however, the current night was quite enjoyable, my mind not at all focused on the inevitable anxiety to come. My beloved gown fit perfectly, seeming to be nothing more than an extension of my skin, and the role of Juliet, which I would be dancing later, required a beautiful braided hairstyle that was elegant enough for me to wear for the red carpet. A very dashing Loki, holding me so close it was as if he was trying to morph our bodies into one, was sporting an expertly tailored onyx suit with a charcoal tie that complimented the muted purples of my gown, hair perfectly slicked back whilst still maintaining the soft, wispy quality I so loved, eyes brightened by the dark tones of his garb, appearing more attractive than I ever thought possible.

To amplify his charm even further, the press junket was being held outside, and as it was the last day of February, the tenacious late winter air held a bitter chill. After a few short moments of rubbing my arms to create friction when I began to shiver in the breeze, Loki pulled the clichéd-but-completely-adorable move of draping his jacket over my shoulders, sending the photographers into an OTP-induced frenzy. Following that, our photo session became significantly longer, as it did every year, earning us vexed looks from my colleagues awaiting their turn.

Once every angle of the moment was captured, the photographers finally finished and permitted us to move onto the interviewers, but as we made our way off of the carpet, Loki’s gaze focused on something towards the street. His pleasant, if not slightly haughty, expression immediately curled into a sour one, mouth hardening and nostrils flaring, shoulders stiffening and arching upward.

“Oh, fuck me,” he growled, fist clenching where it rested on my hip.

“I was planning on it,” I began, thoroughly confused and taken aback. “But why the tone?”

“Look.” With a gentle touch to my cheek that could have been easily mistaken for a gesture of affection by an onlooker, Loki turned my head to the left so that my line of sight matched his. There I spotted Tony Stark exiting a flamboyant crimson car, Pepper on his arm, cameras rapidly flashing at the pair, receiving them with much pomp and circumstance.

“Oh, fuck me,” I echoed.

“What is he doing here?” Loki hissed, failing to miss a beat. “Did you know he was on the guest list?”

“No. I had no idea.” I shook my head in disbelief. “I mean, he and Pepper both mentioned some sort of event when we were still talking, but that was in early January, so I figured it was some sort of engineering expo or something. The thought that it could be this gala never even crossed my mind, because it seemed something way out from the subjects Stark takes interest in.”

Loki seemed to not hear my analyzations. “I swear to Valhalla and all the gods in it, if I’m within thirty feet of him, all civility will be abandoned. After all the trouble they’ve caused us, I’d very much enjoy reversing that pattern.”

“I see where you’re coming from, but when you get that scarily deep tone of voice, I know that anything you do in the time following could and would get me fired. We should avoid that.” Checking about myself for a clear pathway, I took Loki’s wrist and navigated to the backstage entrance into the theatre, feeding the queued interviewers a fib about a wardrobe malfunction, promising to be back before five minutes was up.

“Where are we going?” he questioned as I ducked inside the building and then directly into the stage manager’s office, rifling through the papers scattered about the constantly messy desk.

“They usually keep a seating chart for dinner and the show in here… aha!” I pulled the desired item out, laying it flat on a rare free space on the worn wood and scanning the names. “See, for the show, you’re in the orchestra section, row 1, seat L, and Stark’s in the mezzanine, row 11, seats B and C. And for dinner, we’re table 2, which is here, towards the front left side of the ballroom, and he’s table 7, which is towards the middle right. I think you should be safe.”

“Given that we don’t run into each other elsewhere.”

“I suggest you proceed into cocktails early, then.” Stepping around Loki to make for the door, I gave his shoulders a quick rub. “Get loosened up a bit, and maybe your rage will be a bit more controllable and you two can hash out the issue like adults.”

“No. I’m not risking an encounter in an open environment like that without you to stay me,” he declared definitively. “I’m not going to cocktail hour tonight.”

“So, despite the fact that many people at that event would very much like to talk to you in that doting way you so adore, you’re just going to remain with me while I go through the frantic process of getting ready with very limited time, and willingly deal with the bitchiness that occurs with my anxiety to be perfect and punctual?”

“Until the minute they force me into the auditorium.”

With a giggle in spite of myself, I led Loki back outside, dodging Tony’s eye as he had his own photo session. “You know, you’re lucky that you’re a god, famed for your persuasiveness and magical abilities, or else the stage crew would never let you get away with that. Maybe on normal performance days, but not on a night like tonight.”

“Yes.” Loki’s tone was comically dry. “So lucky.”

Despite Loki’s growing rage at the memories Tony’s presence brought up and the nerves that feeling from him brought out in me, the rest of the time leading up to the show operated rather smoothly. The interviews were pleasant yet engaging, and Loki was able to help me in some of my preparations for the performance when the time came, making the process go quicker than I ever could’ve hoped, resulting in me becoming sufficiently more calm than I ever expected to be.

Ultimately, though, the stage manager came to the dressing room ten minutes before curtain up, conveying that Loki absolutely had to go find his seat right then or else forfeit it completely. I sent him off with a smile, but with him went my good mood and anxiety-free mind, the menacing cloud of all of the things that could go wrong that night returning to circle my brain in a relentless hurricane.

When I stalked backstage for my warmup, my worried thoughts putting me in an almost trance-like state, I didn’t even bother trying to resist creeping up into the flies and sneaking a look into the audience to check up on things. When I noticed a very calm Loki in the front row, with Tony considerably further back, completely preoccupied with flirting with Pepper, I breathed a heavy sigh of relief.

“Spying again?”

Stellan, all done up in his Romeo costume, had snuck up behind me on the suspended ramp, anticipating my startled scream by sliding a hand over my mouth. Once I caught my breath and my heart rate slowed, I pulled his fingers away and huffed quietly, being sure to keep my voice at a whisper as to not invoke the wrath of the stage crew.

“You know, Romeo, you’re supposed to kill Juliet with the grief from your suicide, not by frightening her into a premature heart attack.”

“I’m not when Juliet is worrying too much,” Stellan retorted, glancing over my shoulder into the audience. “You know, I love you, but sometimes you’re way too overprotective. Loki’s a big boy, he can… Oh.”

When Stellan’s line of sight matched mine and he spotted Tony, his eyes widened. My dance partner knew the entire situation between Loki and the Avengers as if he had lived it, seeing as he was one that, after much deliberation, Loki and I had decided to reveal the truth of Loki’s identity to, given that Stellan and I were immensely close as friends and had been since school, and due to that a strong bond of trust lied between us. Additionally, I was with Stellan as much as I was with Loki, and when I spent that much time with a person, I was bound to slip up and let the truth loose sometime.

“Yeah,” I concurred, shifting awkwardly between my feet.

“I know both of your groups were trying to patch things up, but the past couple of times you met up haven’t been too great, have they?”

“Not really.” I raised my voice to be heard over the clamor of applause as the current selection ended and onstage preparations for the next began, reminding myself that I would have to return to my warmup soon.

“I mean,” Stellan continued, “I remember when you came into work the day after they randomly arrested you. You were so emotionally wrecked that it reflected on you physically. Everyone thought you had some sort of crazy virus. When they sent you home and you actually went, I knew things were bad. And that chain of events was kind of Stark’s fault, right?”

“Sort of. Not really.” I shrugged. “He just ushered in the inevitable. I’m actually glad that revelation happened when it did, early on, as opposed to when the groups had an established relationship. That situation would have had much worse repercussions.”

“Yeah, but your almost shockingly positive attitude towards the subject doesn’t make it a good thing that they’re in the same building. For once, I don’t blame you for watching them like a hawk.” Stellan shook his head incredulously. “What’s Tony Stark doing at a ballet gala, anyway? Mostly they just invite regular patrons along with some humanitarian celebrities to these things. The only thing I can think of is that the hospital invited some guests of their own, but that doesn’t seem like a list he’d be on, either.”

“Beats me.” I brought my finger to my mouth and began to tug at a hangnail with my teeth. Stellan shuddered, bringing his tangent to an end.

“And I thought I was nervous.

“There’s no reason to feel like one aspect of our mutual emotion is better or worse than what the other is experiencing. The causes for said feeling are just different.” I forced a smile. “You’ll do great, as usual. Now, I really have to go warm up, else you might feel like you’re partnering an unmalleable log of nothingness tonight, which would add even more unpleasantness to the situation.”

Once I was back on the ground floor, I somehow managed to immerse all of my energy into not dwelling on my worries, forcing myself to focus solely on my performance and getting into character. That eventually paid off, for once I stepped onstage, everything seemed to melt away as I became Juliet as completely as I could, thinking her thoughts and dreaming her dreams, the shedding of my own skin for a few moments reminding me of one of the reasons I knew I had to pursue a stage career in the first place. Later, I knew that my acting must have been as good as it felt, for when it came time for the famous kiss at the end of the pas de deux, Loki did something he only ever did when he felt particularly envious.

For most ballets, even though the main partnership oftentimes acted as if they were lovers, onstage kisses hardly ever happened, and when they did, they were brief and chaste, and typically faked by Stellan’s lips only touching a part of my cheek close to my mouth. However, in Romeo and Juliet, it was impossible to insert such a substitution, for the kiss was too long and too much acting was involved in the contact, seeing as in the ballet, it was the first major declaration of love between the pair.

The first time Loki pulled his stunt was my debut performance of Juliet, and it had startled me so horrifically that I almost screamed aloud onstage. Afterward, once I got over the initial shock, it helped me realize the sheer magnitude of his power, seeing as it was a complicated bunch of spellwork, all squeezed into a very short amount of time.

To start, Loki would cut off Stellan’s mental consciousness so that he was still able to move and appear alert without actually registering what was going on, then switch their places so that my partner briefly occupied Loki’s spot in the audience and that Loki stood onstage with me. In that process, my fiancé would execute a difficult disguising maneuver so that he appeared to be the same person that had been dancing with me the entire time to the audience, but appeared as himself to me. Then, once the kiss was finished, everything would be reversed, and Stellan would continue on with the remaining choreography as if nothing had ever happened, remembering not a moment of the incident.

That night, I was halfway expecting it due to Loki’s previously unfavorable humor, and it was no surprise to me when the time for the kiss came and I looked up to discover him staring back at me, eyes glinting with a mixture of mischief and passion. After one of the steamiest kisses of my life, his dexterous hands managing to be enticing whilst still expertly supporting my back as I executed the mild choreography to take place during the contact, he murmured a barely audible “You are mine, and I am yours,” before the music forced me to pull away and dash towards the faux balcony.

“Ass,” I muttered to myself as choreography required me to look back and discover Stellan as Romeo once more, a broad, lovestruck grin at what had just happened shaping my face. As the dance ended and Stellan led me to the front of the stage for bows, Loki was the first to stand for the ovation, smirking knowingly, causing me to have to bite my tongue to keep it in my mouth.

Afterward, I sprinted back to my dressing room, hurrying as much as I could in the hectic process of returning my appearance to what it was during the red carpet. Thankfully, it went off without a hitch, and I soon joined Loki in the ballroom, dimly lit with a lilac glow, before any of the official festivities had begun.

“You are a naughty, naughty boy,” I muttered to Loki as he handed me a flute of champagne at the door, drawing in a sip as I scanned the room. The recreational dancing wouldn’t begin until after dinner, and the meal was not due to be served for another quarter hour. “You made me mentally break character. That could’ve thrown the last thirty seconds completely off.”

“Are you planning on punishing me later?” Loki wagged his eyebrows at me over his own glass.

“Maybe, if you stop being so cheesy.” I bit my lip as I spotted Tony and Pepper in the corner opposite us, chatting boisterously with some younger patrons. “How are things going with Stark?”

“Not at all,” Loki replied. “We haven’t come closer than we are now the entire night.”

“Well, I suppose that’s good.” I titled my head upwards to study my fiancé intently. “Are we wanting it to stay that way?”

“For the sake of your reputation, yes.”

“Not yours?”

“In the eyes of Midgard, mine was ruined beyond repair years ago.”

I was just opening my mouth to reassure him when dinner was announced, and the attendees were ushered to their tables as a dainty amuse-bouche was being served. By the time we were settled, Loki had moved on from the subject, and I decided it was best to not bring it up again.

Over the course of the meal, we got to know Stellan’s new boyfriend and endured Mrs. Travers’ constant gushing over the performance, our neighbor once again claiming credit in my being cast as Juliet originally. Overall, the time spent was pleasant and the food delicious, and once dessert was cleared away I eagerly followed Loki over to the area of the silent auction as the dance floor became available, the remainder of the crowd eagerly flocking to it, a live jazz band beginning to play popular upbeat tunes from the forties and fifties.

“Did you make any bids while I was gone?” I scanned the setup of auction items, which were, as usual, fairly random in relation to the event. While there were a few ballet-related options, the rest was a plethora of various vintage pieces, particularly furniture once belonging to famous figures.

“An original Degas painting, as well as a writing desk that allegedly belonged to Poe. I figured we could put some sort of raven decoration on it and bombard all of our guests with that horrid riddle about a raven and a writing desk.” Loki pointed his selections out with a proud grin that betrayed a trick afoot.

“You tampered with the auction papers, didn’t you?”

“I may or may not have placed a spell on my entries that caused them to react with any other bids added to the page so that they’re always the highest one.”

“If this money wasn’t going to charity, I would scold you.” As I moved to take a closer look at our inevitable spoils, I spotted Stark and Pepper browsing the area. “Lo, on your two.”

When he followed my cue and spotted the pair, he grabbed my hand and steered us across the ballroom and over to the bar, promptly ordering two very strong cocktails, checking briefly over his shoulder to confirm that the clusters of people on the dance floor concealed us. However, it appeared our hasty retreat was not as effective as we were hoping, for just as our drinks were being delivered, Tony slid into the bar stool next to Loki, seemingly out of thin air, and rattled off his own order.

“You’re deliberately avoiding me, aren’t you?” Stark quipped, swiveling around in his chair so that he faced both of us.

“Why’d you leave Pepper over there?” I spoke across Loki. “If we’re going to discuss that topic, we might need her as a referee.”

Tony acted as if there was no bad blood between our parties at all.

“She’s got her heart set on some antique chair that doesn’t at all fit with the décor of Stark Tower, and that if she gets, she won’t let anyone sit on.” He drew in a deep swig from his glass, quickly changing the subject. “I had no idea the ballet company had a relationship with the children’s hospital.”

“They’ve had one since the hospital’s establishment. We’ll go do little shows for them and such, and sometimes we’ll even bring our tutus and headpieces so they can try them on.” I tapped my nail on the polished surface of the bar. “I’m surprised to see you here, though. I figured that your charitable events would fall more along the lines of scholarships and grants.”

“They do, usually, but the Avengers have a deal with the hospital not unlike yours. Going and meeting the kids in uniform, et cetera. The hospital’s representative actually invited all of us to this event, but I was the only one free to come.” Tony shrugged, seeming almost a bit pained at his next words. “I actually enjoyed watching you tonight. It was pretty amazing. That kiss was very steamy, though. I wouldn’t be surprised if we found your partner in a broom closet or something, dead by Loki’s hand.”

“Why are you here, Stark?” Loki cut in sharply, leaning forward a bit so his form partially concealed mine. “Why are you pursuing such a conversation? Why are you making such an obvious effort to flatter and tease us lightheartedly when you’ve previously made what you feel towards me quite clear?”

A quick sigh escaped from Stark’s throat, his lips pursing.

“I’ve been hearing things lately, from Pepper and Steve and Natasha, that while you’re not going to be canonized as a saint anytime soon, that you may not be as much of an evil madman as you seem to us. Thor also told us about the help you gave him, and how you deciphered the signs from that creepy vision thing he had.

“Now, you have no idea how much pain I’m in by saying this, but without your help, we, and the entire planet, would have been completely screwed. The information you gave will undoubtedly help us in the future, and with that knowledge we realized that we actually might need you, as you’ve been trying to tell us. So, as an official white flag…” Tony dug around in the pocket of his jacket until he procured a black square of folded leather with the Avengers insignia stamped onto the top. “Welcome to the Avengers.”

Loki dubiously picked up the badge, opening it and scanning the I.D. inside before sliding it back across the bar. “I’ve no interest in being a member of this band of jesters.”

“Oh, you won’t be. Not full-time, anyway. We have you registered as a consultant,” Stark corrected. “I was one with S.H.I.E.L.D. for a while. Basically, we’ll call you in to be on the team for problems that require your special abilities or unique expertise, and once said case resolved, you’ll be free to do whatever your little heart desires, within boundaries of things that are legal, of course, until something else comes along.

“Though, to get you settled in and make sure you’re not harboring any villainous plans, we will be calling you in for small missions and meetings a lot, at least until we can get used to each other, and, to be frank, partly to further punish you for the original incident that brought this big, happy family together.”

“That still doesn’t sound appealing.”

Tony rolled his eyes, his reluctant humility bleeding into hostility, and I implored myself to keep my mouth shut on the matter and let the conversation play out between the two of them, whilst still warily keeping my eye out for the security guards.

“Look, this thing is more of an extension of goodwill than anything. You’re the one that’s been saying how much we’re going to need each other in the future. That badge is a binding agreement that both parties will get the help they need. It’s also our formal apology for things we’ve done to you in the past couple of months, just like you’ve been wanting. And despite my condescending tone of voice and desperate desire to strangle you right now, it’s completely sincere.” Stark deftly slid from his chair and began to stride away, calling his final words over his shoulder. “If you have any hope of even partial redemption, I’d take the badge. Then, and only then, we can start working towards that.”


	13. Legalese

“Happy March first,” Loki whispered in my ear, waking me from my wearing-off slumber.

“Hm?” I muttered. “What’s so special about the date?”

“I’m honestly surprised you don’t know,” he continued. “You were the one that began the countdown for the event I have in mind in the first place.”

“At this time of morning, I don’t even know my own name. Trust me, it would be better to save yourself the annoyance of my guessing.”

Loki relented. “Fine. The date is special because exactly three months from today, I will be able to forevermore call you my wife.”

“Oh! I can’t believe I forgot about that. I’ve been so excited to be able to call you my husband and have it actually be true.” Drawn from my drowsiness by excitement, I untangled myself from the covers. “Let’s celebrate.”

Loki followed with a bemused expression as I promptly padded through the house and to the bar, watching intently as I ducked behind the counter to retrieve a bottle of wine.

“It’s a bit early in the morning to be drinking, isn’t it?” He teased.

“Perhaps,” I agreed, sparingly filling two glasses. “But it’s never too early for a celebration.”

“Cheers to that.” We touched glasses, settling into the raised bar stools as we took our first sips. However, before either of us had even swallowed, Loki’s cell phone, which was often forgotten about as he preferred his laptop in the way of Midgardian technology, began to buzz persistently with a call. We shared a confused glance at the unfamiliar caller I.D., for the only two people on the entire planet that had his number were me and Thor, and Loki had used a spell to block any telemarketer calls. Eventually, the call rang out, and the sound of my wine glass being set back down on the bar was jarring in the anxious silence.

“Who in the realms could that have been?” He marveled.

“Open your recents,” I suggested. “See if it says where the call came from.”

Loki went to oblige my request, but before he could even get his screen unlocked, it lit up again with a new call from the same number.

“Should I answer?” Loki questioned. My only reply was to shrug and bite at a hangnail, my fists clenching with anticipation when his finger contacted the green button instead of the red.

“Hi, Rudolph.”

Though Loki’s phone volume was turned low to accommodate for his godly hearing, the owner of the voice on the other end of the line was clear. Before Loki could get a word in edgewise, I propelled myself from my stool and snatched the phone, holding it to my ear.

“How did you get this number?” I demanded.

“And Twinkle Toes.” Stark did not seem the least bit surprised that I had taken over the conversation. “I was hoping I’d also get to talk to you on this lovely morning.”

“Answer my question, Stark.”

“I’m genuinely taken aback. I never thought I’d hear so hostile a tone from you.”

“I tend to get hostile when I’m concerned for the safety and security of Loki’s and my privacy. I will repeat: where did you get this number?”

“Thor gave it to me.”

“I don’t believe that. Thor and I have an agreement that we would never give out Loki’s number without getting his permission first.”

At the mention of his name, Loki, who had been following me as I paced along the bar, raised his eyebrows.

“Well, he resisted at first, but when I told him that if he didn’t tell me I’d have to go to the measures of hacking into national phone company databases, he caved. He wanted to let you know, but I insisted this be a surprise. He warned me against it, but I don’t think the two of you will do anything about it.”

“Thor gave him the number?” Loki’s nostrils flared in rage as he processed what had been said.

“Unwillingly,” I assured, covering the microphone with my palm. “Don’t get in a fight with your brother; he’s got your best interests at heart, here.”

“Am I on speakerphone?” Stark inquired as I put the phone back to my ear. “Put me on speakerphone.”

“Stark, no, just answer my questions,” I insisted.

“I’ll answer your questions if you put me on speakerphone.”

“I’ll put you on the damn speakerphone after you answer-”

“There we go.” Stark’s voice crackled through the space as the phone suddenly obliged to his persistent request without me ever pressing a button. “Talking to both of you at once is awfully difficult when you’re not on speaker.”

“What did you do?” My voice was barely short of a scream.

“Remember that comment about Thor giving me Loki’s number to prevent my hacking into cell phone company databases? Yeah, after I got the number, I did it anyway, and thanks to my advanced personal technology, I now have control over your phone. Isn’t it magical?”

“Take yourself off that control panel right now, Stark, or you will never live to see another sunrise,” Loki growled.

“Ooh, threatening team members is a big no-no when you’re a consultant. Also, another part of the job is agreeing to let your superiors have control over items such as this if they so require it.”

“You’re hardly my superior.”

“Am I? We’ll see.”

Loki let out a short yet forceful sigh. “What is of so much importance that you must acquire control of my cell phone and then interrupt a morning of celebration with my fiancée?”

“Oh, you’re celebrating? Yay! What’s the occasion?”

“Answer the question!” Loki and I shouted in unison. Stark proceeded as if we had asked him to go on with the utmost politeness.

“I just wanted to let you know that you’re scheduled for your official consultant contract review meeting tomorrow at one ‘o’clock. It’s mainly to go over your duties and all those rules that you’ve been breaking in this conversation, along with signing some papers and getting you on the official registry. Camryn’s invited, too. We’ve decided to register her as a co-consultant, since we figured there’s no way we’ll uphold confidentiality policies where you’re involved, because we figured you tell her everything. Does tomorrow at one work for you, Camryn, or are you going to be in tutu town?”

“Luckily, you’ve caught me in my break between seasons,” I replied through clenched teeth. “Tomorrow at one will be just fine.”

“Great. I’ll see you then.” From his end, Stark disconnected the call. I remained frozen in a stunned silence, but Loki wasted no time before punching buttons rapidly on his phone whilst making to exit the room.

“Where are you going?” I shouted after him.

“I’m going to call Thor and make sure this meeting isn’t some kind of trap.”  
“Don’t you trust them now?”

“I’m the God of Mischief and Lies. I have to take actions and precautions against what I would do if I wanted to capture or double-cross someone without their knowledge,” Loki answered simply as the door swung shut behind him, leaving me alone with two barely-drunk glasses of wine. Dejectedly, I emptied them back into the bottle, cleaning up the mess before trudging back into the bedroom, flopping onto the comforter.

With a groan, I placed my hand over my eyes, wondering if I was too awake to attempt going back to sleep, only to be startled by my own phone ringing. Proceeding with caution, I peeled it out from under the covers, my stomach dropping when the caller I.D. displayed the name Pepper Potts.

“Hello?” I answered warily.

“Camryn, hi.” Pepper’s voice was hushed. “I just wanted to apologize for Tony’s behavior on that phone call. I would have stopped him, but by the time I walked into the room, he had already hung up.”

“No, it’s okay,” I assured, much more forgiving with Pepper than with her boyfriend. “There were some things that came out of my mouth that warrant apologies, as well, so I’m in no place to be accepting any.”

“Oh, any bad thing said in Tony’s presence is entirely provoked and therefore one hundred percent excusable. Trust me, I’ve experienced it.”

I chuckled along, unsure of whether agreeing would make me seem rude.

“Listen, Pepper, while I’ve got you on the phone,” I rose from the bed and stepped over to the closet, throwing open one of its doors, “what should I wear to this thing tomorrow? I haven’t been to many business meetings.”

“Oh, they’re pretty casual,” Pepper assured. “Most of the time, the guys just wear jeans and t-shirts.”

“Yeah, well, the word ‘casual’ isn’t really in my vocabulary. I couldn’t tell you where my pair of plain skinny jeans is, or if I even have one.” A garment caught my eye and I stepped over to pull it out. “Would a black polyester pantsuit be alright if I paired it with a white blazer and pointy-toed heels?”

“It would be great. Very business-chic,” Pepper praised. “I daresay you’ll be the best-dressed one there.”

“Well, that’s what I typically go for,” I admitted.

“Why does that not surprise me?” Pepper laughed. “Listen, I’ve got an appointment here in about five minutes, so I’ve got to go. I’ll see you tomorrow, and meet you downstairs at Stark Tower to make sure the security guards aren’t too barbaric.”

“I appreciate that. I’ll see you later.” I hung up the phone, secretly relieved that at least one person in my corner would be present at the meeting.

“Thor has confirmed that the appointment is legitimate,” Loki declared as he joined me in the bedroom, following my action of collapsing onto the bed. “I don’t know whether to be relieved that they’re being willingly truthful with us or irked that we have to attend that meeting where they’ll do nothing but make us jump through hoops like circus animals.”

“Important allies, remember?” I reminded. “They may be bumbling idiots, but I must admit, when they set their minds to something, they get it done. That will be important if Thanos strikes Earth.”

“When,” Loki corrected, blanching noticeably at the mention of the sensitive subject.

“When he comes to Earth,” I repeated, scooting closer to Loki’s laying form, scooping his head onto my lap and cradling it comfortingly, “and when we send him to Hel, once and for all.”

***

The next day, Loki and I stood before Stark Tower, which appeared especially formidable against the pale grey sky. Loki looked equally as grim and imposing in an all-black suit, and I was wearing the outfit I had cleared with Pepper, with the addition of a necklace of pearls so that I would have something to play with if my anxiety heightened.

With a breath of preparation, I led the way into the tower, pushing through the revolving doors and entering the lobby, which was considerably full of people, seeing that it was normal business hours on a Thursday. Nonetheless, the crowd did not prevent the staff and security guards from noting our arrival, the receptionist gesturing us forward.

“Name?” he questioned, though the dark look in his hazel eyes suggested that he knew the answer.

“Loki Laufeyson and Camryn Potts,” Loki replied in a clipped tone.

“And are you here on matters concerning Stark Industries or the Avengers?”

“Avengers.”

“What sort of business do you have with them today?”

“We’ve a meeting with Mr. Stark and, I’m assuming, Captain Rogers, about consultation contracts and registry.”

“Well, that ends my interrogation.” The receptionist began typing away at his desktop computer, eventually stopping to click on a few things. “Though, why they’d ever want the likes of you working for them, I’ll never know.”

“Finn!” Pepper scolded before Loki or I could react, coming up behind us. “There’s no need for that sort of talk, not to mention it goes completely outside of company policy. Apologize, please.”

“Why should I apologize for saying something I truly believe?” Finn retorted.

“You’re already skating on very thin ice, here. I wouldn’t do anything that could worsen your situation.” Pepper heaved an exasperated sigh. “Just give them their visitor’s passes. I’ll be speaking to you in my office later.”

Finn handed over the lanyards with a sneer, and Pepper rolled her eyes as we walked towards the elevators.

“Sorry about that. I don’t understand what is wrong with that boy.” She pressed her finger to the up button.

“I assure you, his actions aren’t treatment we don’t expect,” Loki muttered.

Pepper flashed us a sympathetic look. “Fortunately, though, I’ve cleared my schedule for the next two hours, so I can stay for the entire meeting and make sure no part of that gets out of hand.”

“Well, I’m glad for that,” I commented once the elevator opened, letting us out. “It may very well be needed.”

Pepper led us through a hallway lined with nothing but doors leading into sleek conference rooms, eventually halting in front of the largest, which seemed unsuited to the small group inside.

“Ready to be fed to the wolves?” I muttered in Loki’s ear before we passed through the doorway, where Tony, Steve, Bruce, and Thor waited for us.

“I’m ready for this to be over with,” Loki corrected.

As we attempted to enter the room, a security guard stopped us, insisting on a check and pass through a metal detector.

“Is this really necessary?” Loki called out to the group already in their seats.

“Don’t fret, brother, this is not a prejudice against you,” Thor assured. “All of us must be checked before we can enter. It’s a common precaution.”

“We all get searched, but somehow Natasha always sneaks a gun and knife in anyhow, as well as a can of mace, I believe,” Steve added.

“It’s all part of the agreement,” the security guard interjected. “I don’t check Ms. Romanoff’s boots and make sure the metal detector is turned off when she goes through, and she gives me twenty dollars. Her February contributions bought me this.” He proudly pulled at the collar of his fitted leather jacket.

“Speaking of, where is Natasha?” I questioned, settling into the seat that bore my paper nameplate.

“She and Clint have been taking the week to do some guest seminars and training sessions for new recruits,” Steve answered whilst the five other occupants of the room looked on.

“New recruits?” I raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Who are they? They must be pretty special to be taken into the Avengers.”

“Unfortunately, we can’t tell you that yet,” Steve replied. “It’s above your clearance level.”

“Clearance level?” Loki’s features shaped into an incredulous expression. “What in the Nine does that mean?”

“All that is explained in this.” Entering the conversation at last, Stark dropped two thick stacks of paper on the polished table before us. “Your consultant contracts.”

“Good god,” I noted, thumbing through mine. “That’s a lot of fine print.”

“Hence the reason we called this meeting,” Steve explained. “Don’t worry. You don’t have to sign it now. We’re going to allow you to take them home and deliberate for a bit, should you want that time.”

“We’ve also got a couple of lawyers down in legal on standby if you want them to go over anything with you,” Pepper added.

“Well, let’s not keep them waiting too long,” I decided. “Let’s get started, shall we?”

“Before we do that, I forgot to get my own copy. Considering that I’m leading this meeting, I’d venture to say that it’s a very important item. Just let me grab that, and we can get this show on the road.” Tony slid from the table, retreating to a large filing cabinet in the corner of the room.

“Why is Stark conducting this meeting if he’s not even the leader of this group?” Loki asked Thor.

“Stark has the most knowledge on legal matters,” Thor informed. “He handles the contracts.”

“I see.” Resigned, Loki sat back in his chair. However, Stark was taking so long a time at the cabinet that the delay had to be intentional, leaving the table enveloped in an awkward silence. Surprisingly, it was broken by Bruce.

“When I got the email about this meeting, I realized that I’ve never formally apologized for throwing you around when I was...you know.”

Thor and I waited with bated breath as Loki registered what had been said to him and formulated a reply.

“I suppose an apology is in order on my side, as well,” Loki finally stated. “I was the one that provoked you into that state, which is one that is very traumatic for you.”

“Well, then, since it seems that both of us have things to be sorry for, should we let bygones be bygones, permanently?”

“Agreed.”

“Speaking of, why are all four of you here?” I questioned. “If this is a terms review and contract signing meeting, I figured only Steve and Tony would have to be present.”

“Since the Avengers are such a tight-knit group that works so closely with each other, anyone joining the team in a full-time member or consultant capacity is required to get signatures of approval from at least two members other than myself,” Steve replied.

“And you must approve of anyone in question before they can even qualify to be considered by the others, am I correct?” I went on.

Steve flashed me a cheeky grin. “You would be right.”

“Alright, here we go.” Stark finally returned to the table, flipping through his own copy of the contract. “First it goes on this big hoopla about consultation, saying that you’ve been selected for this honorable responsibility because you’ve been enormous assholes-”

“Tony.” Pepper flashed him a look that could freeze over Muspelheim.

“Sorry, the humility thing still isn’t working very well for me.” Tony cleared his throat, tracking the path of the phony words with his index finger. “Because our groups have been enormous assholes to each other-”

“Stark.” Steve rolled his eyes. “You were the one that wanted to go over the contracts instead of getting someone from legal to do it. Be serious about it.”

“Can’t blame a guy for saying what everyone’s really thinking.” Stark hurried to do as he was told before anyone could react to what he had just said. “The gist of the introduction is that you’ve been selected to be a consultant because of unusual talent or because you have needed knowledge. Then it goes onto an overview on consultant guidelines, rules and such….”

As Tony chattered on, Loki looking over at his contract critically, I slouched back in my chair, blowing a bit of hair from my forehead, leaning over to Thor and muttering in his ear.

“We’re going to be here a while.”

“Indeed,” he conferred. “Would you like to go get coffee afterward, to repair our minds after this long and tedious meeting?”

“I think that’s a fabulous idea,” I conferred. "Can we go somewhere that has a bakery as well as coffee? I think I'll have to give Loki some sugar to improve his mood after this, or else I'll have to deal with his moping all night."

***

"Are you finished going through that, yet?"

"Almost there, darling." Taking a pen from between his teeth, Loki retrieved a new post-it from the pad and made yet another note on some part of the contract.

The meeting that day had spanned over multiple hours, going over the consultant contracts as thoroughly as seemed humanly possible, but Loki still insisted that we take them home and go back over them before we agreed to sign onto anything. Eventually, he finished his post-it spree of the document, and just when I got excited about the ordeal being over, he began to review his notes. I sighed in dejection, stroking Bellatrix where she purred in my lap and pulling out my phone to check the time.

"Lo, it's almost one in the morning," I whined. "Can't we do that later, or at least put on a movie while you finish it?"

"This is a serious decision, dear," he insisted. "If I agree to this, there's a lot that they'll ask of me. I want to make sure that I'm willing to accept the terms they've set."

"I thought the alliance with them was the most important thing," I said through a yawn.

"Well, this is quite a costly alliance. Besides, when Thanos does decide to come to Earth, they'll rise to help anyway, regardless of whether we're contractually bound to each other," Loki reasoned. "You know how they are. Can't refuse an opportunity to save humankind."

"Whatever you think is best, love." Leaning back against the headboard, I closed my eyes and began to doze. Before I reached a deep sleep, however, I was roused by Loki's hand on my shoulder.

"I've made my decision," he declared. "I hate to say it, but I think that signing on as a consultant is worth it."

"I'm glad," I replied, burrowing under the covers. "I'll call them tomorrow and set up another meeting so we can get everything signed."

"Don't you want to go over it yourself?" Loki inquired, brandishing his own papers at me.

"Normally, my obsessive personality would warrant that I do," I began. "But seeing as you spent the best of six hours doing just that, I think any problems that there could possibly be were found. Goodnight, Loki."


	14. Stressful Sleepovers

“I think that’s good for now,” Ulyana, my favorite ballet mistress, praised in her signature thick accent. “I’m pleased with our progress so far. This is your last rehearsal of the day, correct?”

I simply nodded, still too breathless from our last run-through to form any understandable verbal reply.

“Well, I’ll let you go early, then. You’re looking far too pale lately. Go enjoy this warm weather before the evening comes and takes it away.” She patted my cheek before making her long trek out of the studio, leaning on her cane all the way. Once she had rounded the corner, I exited, as well, turning the other way to reach my dressing room. Once there, I made quick work of unhooking my practice tutu and dropping it on the dressing table as I plopped down in my chair to undo my pointe shoes.

After melting into my seat for a few minutes, decompressing from a long day, a playful knock sounded on the doorframe. I peeked over and discovered Chantel, beaming brightly as per usual.

“Did you get let out early, too?” I inquired, wadding up the day’s toe tape and tossing the ball into the trashcan.

“Nah, my rehearsal got cancelled.” She stepped further into the room. “But that meant I got to watch yours. Your Paquita stuff is looking phenomenal.”

“That wedding variation kills, though. The one from the first act is fine enough, but the last one is all turning, exactly what I can’t do.” I went to grab my tutu and return it to its hook on the wall, but in the process the tulle dislodged a picture from my mirror. I moved to retrieve it, but the photo fluttered instead towards Chantel’s feet. She picked it up and looked at it for herself, giggling.

“This one’s my favorite,” she declared, turning it around so that I could see. It was a snapshot of me and Loki in Disney World, posing in front of the castle. In the photo, it was apparent that I was beyond excited as I stood with a face-cracking grin that made me appear insane, but Loki had been dubious of the “Most Magical Place on Earth,” only going along with the trip because of how happy the prospect made me. The look of silent resignation, dread, and slight fear in his face was a complete contrast to his experience during the rest of the vacation, however, for he turned out to love the place as much as I did.

“I love that one, too,” I gushed, pinning it back up where it belonged. “There’s a lot of good memories in this photo.”

“Speaking of,” Chantel began, “where has Loki been? I haven’t seen him around lately.”

I hesitated. After our contract signing, Loki and I were called for daily meetings with the Avengers to go over even more consultant terms, draw up a list of duties and missions Loki and I would be assisting with, and more importantly, test our allegiance. Once my season started back up, however, I had rehearsal all day and could no longer attend. Due to that, Loki became the sole representative and person of action in our family, which is how it should have been in the first place, for I knew that my addition as a co-consultant was only a formality due to the inevitability of Loki telling me everything.

After a week or so, the meetings tapered down to only twice a week, and eventually once. However, Loki had been given several duties, primarily under the category of observation in the ways that his skills in magic gave him exclusively. The tasks that went along with that duty occupied quite a bit of his time and the meetings left him emotionally exhausted, so I insisted that since I was in the middle of a rehearsal period and wasn’t performing, there was no point in him coming to work with me all the time and taxing himself unnecessarily.

“He’s been added to this new project with some people he knows,” I replied, aware of my vow of secrecy regarding the consultant program. I bit my tongue and prayed that Chantel wouldn’t ask what kind of project. “It takes up a lot of his time, so he’s been staying home to work on it.”

“I see. Well, I’m glad he’s found something to occupy himself. It’s just that you two are usually inseparable, and a few of us worried that you were fighting when we hadn’t seen him around.” Chantel stepped over and gave me a quick hug. “Anyway, I’ve got to go now. See you when I see you.”

I called a goodbye down the hall after her, then resumed tidying my dressing room and getting changed. Once my sweaty dancewear was off and I was savoring the feeling of finally wearing a short-sleeved dress and open-toed shoes, I made my way out of the building and to the nearest Metro stop. Whenever I wasn’t with Loki, I preferred taking the subway as opposed to catching a cab, for the walks to and from the stations allowed me time to think, and resting on a cool seat in the crowded cars made me feel truly a citizen of the city, which was sometimes a bit suppressed when entering our high-class neighborhood and living in an apartment larger than any house.

As I entered our building, my excitement to see Loki heightened. We weren’t used to being apart for as long as we had been lately, and the highlight of my day became when I got to come home and see him. The moment I stepped off the elevator, however, I was greeted not by his usual hug and kiss, but by Henry’s signature high-pitched yowls of hunger.

“Hey, drama king,” I greeted, kneeling to rub his head. “Why are you screaming like that? Isn’t Daddy here to feed you?”

No sooner had I uttered the question than I spotted a folded note on the side table next to the coat rack. I opened it and noticed Loki’s elegant scrawl immediately, which read:

Camryn,

An impromptu meeting was called at Stark Tower, so I’ve left to attend that. I’d like for you to be here if you can, so when you read this, please head that way as soon as possible. If the meeting concludes before you arrive, I’ll give you a call to save you the journey. I love you.

Loki

P.S. Do NOT feed Henry. He’s already eaten several times today and is being a big faker.

My wonderment as to what the meeting could be about faded into anxiety the more I thought it over, but Henry began yowling again before I could venture too far into my thoughts. I turned my eyes towards the cat, and saw that he had been joined by Bellatrix, whom I could somehow tell was flashing her companion a look of annoyance.

“What Daddy doesn’t know won’t hurt him,” I assured the two, taking them into the kitchen for some cat treats before heading right back out again, this time submitting to a cab to take me to Stark Tower.

When I entered the building, my consultant status made it no longer necessary for me to attend to the fuss of a lengthy check-in, for all I needed to do was scan my badge and thumbprint at the staff entrance and check in with a security guard before going on the elevator. Though I didn’t yet feel quite comfortable walking the halls of the tower, worrying every moment that some joke was being played on me and at any minute I would be forcibly escorted out, being there with my badge and status gave me a sense of importance that I’d never felt before, not even when walking the halls of the palace of Asgard.

“There she is!” Stark called out as I entered the conference room, and I flashed Loki a look from where the guard on duty was giving me my usual probe with the metal detector.

“What’s all that about?” I inquired, my words directed at my fiancé only.

“Nothing of import. Please, come sit.” He gestured to the chair next to him and I hurried to take it.

“What was this meeting called for, and why is it so important that I attend?” I continued as I situated myself. “Catch me up.”

“Do you recall the rifts in time and space that we investigated a while ago?” Loki began.

“The ones that I found out existed by hacking into S.H.I.E.L.D.’s private communications to improve their views of you, then got sucked into, only to get arrested after we successfully closed them?” I ranted, leaving everyone staring at me with gaping mouths. “Those?”

“Yes,” Loki answered quietly, slightly stunned as he usually was when I took control.

“Well, what about them?”

“When it became apparent to us that Loki had extensive knowledge on how these rifts worked, we put him to the task of observing them: locating any remaining ones, seeing if any new ones popped up, et cetera,” Steve answered. “He found a fair few left over from the Chitauri invasion. We didn’t want to close them yet for fear that there could be other people trapped inside, like those you found on your personal mission, but that plan is backfiring on us now.”

“Backfiring how?”

“We’re not sure the true reason, but somehow one of the portals got directed somewhere other than the Chitauri world,” Bruce explained. “We don’t know if things got shaken up during the Convergence or if someone was able to switch it, but there have been beings from another world coming through and terrorizing the citizens.”

“Judging by their appearance, Loki and I have deduced that they’re most likely from Muspelheim,” Thor added. “So far, their numbers have been few, but they appear to simply be scouts. Natasha and Clint are stationed where the portal opens to control those that do come through, but we fear an army is coming.”

“This could become a catastrophic situation,” Loki finished. “That’s why I wanted you here: in the case that the city went into turmoil.”

“Oh.” I attempted to process the situation, but all I could think of was fear for the safety of my friends who were not so fortunate to be sitting inside the most secure place in New York.

“To catch you up as far as this meeting, we’re currently discussing options as to what to do about this situation,” Loki continued. “Of course, it’s preferable to close the portal immediately, but we need to send a scout in to make certain there are no trapped civilians, which will be difficult, seeing as we have no idea where it opens. It could be a pit of fire, for all we know. Also, there’s the issue of making sure that the other rifts aren’t going to start spilling out these creatures, as well as locating and exterminating any scouts that may have escaped our notice.”

“That’s a lot of important decisions to be made,” I commented. I had never been with Loki when he was dealing with duties such as that, and it was a completely different level of anxiety for me. I knew that those situations would be a reality when he was king, so I had been preparing myself to deal with it for years, but I had not expected the day to come so soon.

“Excuse me, Captain Rogers.” An employee in a uniform bearing the Avengers insignia poked her head into the conference room. “We’ve just had communications with Romanoff and Barton. They said that there’s no more time to deliberate and that they need you at their location now.”

My stomach dropped to my feet as I realized what that meant, and I grasped Loki’s hand.

“Guess we’ll be making decisions on the fly, then.” Let’s suit up,” Stark declared, pushing back from the table. As everyone followed, I jumped to pull Loki down by the collar of his shirt.

“Keep yourself safe,” I commanded, boring my eyes into his. “You’ve got a wedding to go to.”

He searched my face for a few moments before leaning down and kissing me hard. He smiled softly as he pulled away, but I could see the worry in his eyes.

“No need to fret, love,” he lied. “This will be mere child’s play.”

He quickly kissed me once more, then hurried out with the rest of the group, leaving me glued to my seat, stupefied with anxiety. Pepper, the only other person remaining in the room, came over to join me, draping her arm around my shoulders.

“I wish I could tell you it got easier,” she lamented. “But I can say that the first time is the worst. Eventually you’ll trust his and his companions’ abilities more and the fear won’t be so front-of-mind, but, unfortunately, it’s always there.”

“We should just consider it reassurance that we really do love them as much as we think, I suppose.” I sniffled, wiping my eyes. “Plus, I know Loki wants me to stay here because it’s safer, but I have no clothes, and I’m really worried about my cats.”

“Pepper chuckled. “If you want, we can take a few agents to head to your place and pick up some stuff. The action is way downtown, so we should be safe if we hurry.”

“Can we please?” I begged, pushing out of my seat. “It would make me feel at least a bit better.”

“Of course we can,” she assured. “Let’s go.”

***

An hour later, I was situated in my pajamas in the lounge area of Avengers Tower, sitting opposite Pepper. She had graciously allowed me to bring the cats, and Bellatrix was purring in my lap whilst Henry sniffed around our takeout containers.

It had turned out that both Pepper and I were stress eaters, so we agreed upon ordering some food for the wait. We had been unable to decide between Chinese and pizza, however, so we ordered both, plowing through massive amounts of each in front of the television. We had originally been watching the news, but that was giving us no information and only making matters worse for the both of us, so we eventually switched to old 80’s movies. After a while, it started to feel like we were teenage best friends at a sleepover, and a few times that’s what I believed was going on until a commotion or agent outside the door would remind me what we were waiting for.

As Pepper had said, most of the action was downtown, and it appeared that the team was doing a good job of containing it, for, other than the occasional massive blare of sirens of police cars and ambulances rushing to help, no evidence that any fight was going on could be seen from the windows. I couldn’t decide if the eerie calm improved or hindered my fear.

After we exhausted our movie stash, Pepper and I began to gossip about our men, giggling like schoolgirls. Eventually, though, the subject became a bit more serious as Pepper inquired about my wedding. After revealing a few tidbits regarding plans and my dress, I decided that then was as good a time as any to do what I’d been considering for a long time.

“You know, I wanted to give you something,” I began, reaching into my overnight bag for the envelope I had slipped inside in anticipation of that moment. “Don’t feel any obligation just because I’m giving you this, but you guys put up your white flag by adding me and Loki on as consultants, so consider this ours.”

I held my breath as Pepper pulled out the invitation to Loki’s and my wedding, addressed to the Avengers. When I first pitched the idea to Loki as a method of reciprocating their peacemaking actions, he fought it immensely. I considered the prospect a lost cause and nearly forgot about it, until a few weeks on his new job brought Loki to me, asking if we could give it to them after all.

“This is amazing,” Pepper commented. “Consider this our official RSVP.”

“For all of you?” I questioned. “You haven’t spoken to anyone about whether they’re available or not.”

“If you’re going to think of us to include in on your special day, despite the risks, you can be damn sure we’re all going to be there, previous plans or not.” With a grin, she brought me in for a hug, which was interrupted by an agent entering the room. My heart jumped to my throat at his worried look, and I sprang to my feet, blurting out questions as to what happened. Pepper rose behind me, much calmer, interrogating the man much more cohesively.

“They’re back,” the agent replied, obviously a bit unsure what to do with me. “Fortunately, there have been no casualties or major injuries. They’re docking now, and they’ll meet you in medical.”

Pepper visibly deflated in relief. “Thank you, Agent Hummel. Shall we go, Camryn?”

She made for the elevator, staring at me in confusion as I launched myself towards the stairs.

“This will be faster!” In insisted. With a chuckle at my rookie excitement, she relented, watching in bemusement as I nearly tumbled over myself on the way downstairs.

When I reached the medical deck, I went into a state of tunnel vision, everything around me going black except for Loki, sitting on the edge of a table, his armor in a heap next to him, wearing only his padded undershirt and pants. He was bruised and a bit bloody, ash and sweat coating his face, complexion a bit paler than usual, but other than that, he appeared relatively unscathed. I launched myself over to him, gathering him into my arms as he stood to meet me. Holding him as tight as possible, I buried my face in his shoulder, noticing that he smelled vaguely of burning.

“How did everything go?” I breathed, pulling away.

“Well, the portal did open into Muspelheim,” Loki replied with a dry smile. “I’ll talk to you about the details later, but all you need to know is that the situation has been resolved and all of the rifts have been closed, never to bother any of us again.”

“It was actually a stroke of brilliance on his part,” Natasha interjected, bringing my notice to the rest of the group, all appearing to be in a similar condition as Loki. “We thought we were going to have a full-on battle on our hands, and were almost completely overwhelmed, but somehow he managed to close all of the portals at once, leaving us with only the creatures already on the ground to deal with.”

“That’s my Loki,” I praised, hugging him once more. “Well, if you’re sure the city’s safe, let’s get you home and cleaned up.”

“Actually, I think I’m going to need him to stay here,” a new voice put in, and a pretty young woman in scrubs put her hand out for me to shake. “I’m sorry I’ve not introduced myself yet. I’m Helen Cho.”

“Camryn Potts. It’s nice to meet you,” I reciprocated. “If you don’t mind me asking, why do you need Loki to stay?”

“For some reason, the heat affected him more than it did everyone else,” Helen explained. Loki and I exchanged a look, knowing full well that the reason was his true heritage that he refused to divulge to anyone.

“He’s showing signs of heat exhaustion and dehydration,” she continued. “I’d like to keep him for at least the night for observation and some I.V. fluids.”

“Oh.” My heart sank, but the more I looked at Loki, the sicker he appeared to be. The dark circles under his eyes were unsettlingly prominent, his lips were nearly white, and the sheen of sweat that had long faded on everyone else was still constantly upon his brow. He had sat down with a plop soon after our embraces, clutching at the table with white knuckles, and his eyes were pale and unfocused.

“The house will be lonely without you,” I murmured, placing one last parting kiss on the top of his head, resolving myself to spend the night alone, worrying instead of sleeping.

“What are you talking about? You have a packed overnight bag, don’t you?” Pepper cut in. “I won’t hear of you going home tonight. You’re staying here.”


	15. The Loki Room

After a quick yet official briefing session held as the team got doctored up, the Avengers dissipated from the medical deck to engage in their own personal recuperation methods. Pepper had someone take my bag to where I’d be sleeping that night so that I could stay with Loki, standing by nervously as Helen Cho fixed him up for the night.

“I trust you pretty well,” she said to me once she had finished. “I’m going to let you stay in here and watch over him tonight.”

She gave me a quick run-down of what he could need and what to do as far as his care before leaving the room, and I instantly rushed to his bedside.

“This is pathetic,” he muttered, picking at where the I.V. needle entered his forearm. “A man-made medication does nothing for a god. Besides, I’m fine. I don’t even need it in the first place.”

“Don’t do that.” I pried his fingers away from the tube. “Helen told me that she specifically designed that fluid for individuals with superhuman enhancements, so I think it will work just fine. And you’re sick and you know it.”

“I am not sick.”

“Tell that to your fever. And to this.” I picked up the hand not hooked up to the I.V. and put on display its slight tremble. “Be honest with me, because there’s no one here you have to prove yourself to. How are you feeling?” 

Loki heaved a sigh, never one to admit weakness. “Not well at all. Frustratingly enough, the feeling that I’m going to faint hasn’t left me since we arrived back at the Tower. I’ve a terrible pounding in my head, I don’t think I could stomach food if I tried, and I feel very much in the clutches of my fever.”

I tutted, rising to wet a cloth for his forehead.

“What even happened out there?” I questioned as I sat back down, dabbing the sweat off of his face as he gazed up at me with eyes that were so pale they were almost grey. “You said you’d give me the details later, and it’s later.”

“Well.” Loki cleared his throat. “It’s no secret that every realm in existence seeks control of Asgard. It’s considered the mother realm, and whoever has control of Asgard practically rules the universe.”

I hummed in agreement, encouraging him to continue.

“Well, the leaders of Muspelheim have been vying for that position ever since Jotunheim fell and left an opportunity for them on the list of universal superpowers. The biggest mistake one can make is assuming that the people of Muspelheim nothing but brutish fire giants, because they’re very spiritual, many gifted with what you would call psychic and precognitive powers, therefore making them very good at strategy.

“They know that the Allfather is still recovering from the Odinsleep and very weak, and they know that his beloved son and myself, the adopted prince he once claimed to cherish, are both on Earth, a very vulnerable planet. They also know that my attack with the Chitauri and the Convergence has left compromised and unstable rifts all around. They managed to redirect them so that they connected Midgard and Muspelheim, and planned to attack the Earth, endangering me and Thor enough to wake Odin and provoke him into battle, which would surely kill him at this stage in his life.

“I must admit, it wasn’t a bad plan. It’s just unfortunate that the fire giants have to fight with, well, heat and fire. It’s so difficult for me to bear, pushing me to a point where I can’t even fight on. That’s why I figured out how to close all the rifts at once, because I knew I would collapse and reveal my true identity at any moment if I didn’t do something.”

“How did you do that, by the way?” I interrupted. “Close them all at once, I mean.”

“I targeted the one that started it all,” he replied, making a good effort but not completely succeeding in concealing his pride. “I had a hunch that it was the solution, and when it came down to the wire and we didn’t have any more time to locate each and every one to close them individually, I knew I had to follow it if we were to have any hope. And don’t worry; I made sure no Midgardians were trapped inside the rifts before closing them; all it took was a simple location spell.”

“The one that started it all?” I echoed. “Isn’t that the one that was above the Tower? I was here the whole time; why didn’t I see you?”

“We were in the thick of some very intense fighting at the time, so I had to cloak myself in invisibility to not be pursued. Unfortunately, though, that portal, being the largest, opened into one of the most dangerous areas of Muspelheim, thus resulting in my current state.”

“Well, the Tower was right under you!” I scolded. “You should have come straight here afterwards for medical attention.”

“I couldn’t do that, love. Not while there was still fighting, while there were still dangerous creatures on the ground of a planet not at all equipped to deal with them. Besides, that would have damaged the reputation with the Avengers that we’ve been so desperately trying to repair.” He broke off to cough dryly, and I scurried over to the pitcher that Helen had left on the counter and poured him a glass of water, trading it out for the cloth on his forehead so that I could get him a fresh one.

“When you’re warmer than I am, you know you’ve got a problem,” I teased, referencing my characteristically hot skin.

“Your hands are always cold, though, especially now.” Loki took one and rubbed my fingers to bring circulation to them.

“Quit that. You’re not the caregiver this time.” I giggled. “If the portal above the Tower was so big, though, why weren’t the creatures coming out of that?”

“I think they were going to, eventually,” Loki answered. “I believe they were setting up a perimeter that would trap us in that central area, then unleash their true power once there was no escape.”

“That is smart,” I commented, but was roused by scratching and yowling at the door. Loki’s eyes instantly widened, and his muscles twitched as he prepared to jump out of his bed before I stayed him with a hand on his chest.

“It’s just the cat,” I assured. “Don’t rip your I.V. out.”

“The Avengers have a cat?”

“No, our cat.” I stepped over to open the door, reaching down and letting Henry jump into my arms. “I think Pepper is entertaining Bellatrix, but you know how Henry only likes the two of us. Besides, he’s worried about his Papa.”

“I’m very happy to see him, but what is he doing here?” Loki inquired as Henry leapt onto his lap.

“When I found out that the city was in danger, I freaked out for the cats and wanted them with me,” I answered. “Pepper said she would go back to the penthouse with me to get them, along with some things for an overnight stay.”

Loki’s eyes widened and I knew anger was brewing within him at the fact that Pepper encouraged me to do such a thing when the city was in such a dangerous state.

“We took not one, but two, agents with us, I promise,” I assured.

“I suppose that’s better.” Loki wrinkled his nose. “Still, I would have preferred it if I could have been the one to accompany you.”

“Yeah, but you were busy saving the world.” I cut myself off with a yawn.

“Camryn.” It was Loki’s turn to scold me. “I think you should go to bed. You have work tomorrow.”

“It’ll be fine,” I assured. “I just won’t go to class in the morning and sleep in a bit. I don’t want to leave you all by yourself in this strange place. Besides, I’m supposed to be taking care of you.”

“I know that the anxiety of this evening has exhausted you beyond the recovery that skipping ballet class will bring you,” Loki gently argued. “You’ve taken care of me quite well so far, and I’ve been in much stranger places than this. We both need rest, and I know you’re not going to get it on this table with me, all curled up in wires, and I won’t get any knowing you’re not comfortable. I have Henry to keep me company.”

“Are you sure?” I whined. Part of my insistence to stay was based on the fact that I didn’t want to be alone in that strange place, either, and Loki had always been my security blanket.

“I’m sure. Now go get some rest.” He reached up to press a kiss to my forehead with unusually warm and dry lips. “I’m sure you’ll get good sleep now that you’ll have a whole bed to yourself to kick and squirm around as you please.”

“Shut up,” I giggled, knowing full well how much he suffered the brunt of my heavy, restless sleeping. I squeezed his hand and gave Henry a kiss before reluctantly exiting the room, backtracking my steps until I reached the lounge Pepper and I had been waiting in during the fight. When I entered, I discovered her and Natasha having drinks together on the sofa, Bellatrix splayed out in Natasha’s lap.

“I see Bella’s made yet another new friend,” I commented, announcing my arrival.

“She’s quite charming,” Natasha agreed, a smile playing at her lips. I chuckled once more, then returned my attention to Pepper.

“I’m sorry I took so long in there. Do you mind telling me how to get to where I’ll be staying?”

“No need to apologize. I’ll take you there now.” She set her glass on the coffee table and padded over to me with bare feet. “Someone’s already brought your bag upstairs, so all you need to bring is yourself.

As we made for the elevator, Bellatrix leapt from Natasha’s lap and curled herself around my feet. Despite her being sociable, she never did like being alone when I wasn’t nearby, even with a person she had been loving on for the past hour. I scooped her up and cradled her against my chest as we entered the lift.

“Thor’s section of the Tower is on this floor,” Pepper filled in as the doors opened, leading me out and down the halls that seemed much homelier than those leading to the offices downstairs, yet still maintained an essence of rigid regality, much like Thor’s aesthetic.

“I hope I’m not putting Thor out or anything,” I fretted.

“Oh, no, you won’t be,” Pepper assured. “When we were designing his section, Thor requested that we have a room put in for Loki. That’s where we have you put up for the night.”

“Thor put in a Loki room?” I repeated. I knew for a fact that the new Avengers Tower was designed in between the Battle of New York and the Dark Elf invasion of Asgard, during the time when Loki was in prison and Thor believed him evil. “But…”

“I know. He told us that he wanted it there to renew his hope that someday they could be brothers again.” Pepper stopped in front of a set of transparent double doors looking in on a stylishly minimalistic living room, furnished predominantly with modern, boxy armchairs and couches in neutral tones, with splashes of muted red, screaming Thor.

It was obvious that the room was accessed through a keypad to the right of the doors, but instead of entering a code, Pepper merely knocked on the glass. Thor appeared from around the corner with a toothbrush hanging out of his mouth, and smiled as much as much he was able when he saw us. He pushed open the door and gestured me in, and I waved goodbye and sent one last thank-you off to Pepper as Thor pointed me in the direction of the room I was to stay in, returning to the bathroom to rid himself of dental tools.

When I let Bellatrix hop out of my arms and stepped into the room assigned to Loki, it became very clear that it was designed for him by someone who knew him well.

The doors were not glass as those leading to the other rooms, but rather dark and solid, preventing anyone from seeing inside. They initially opened on an empty space that was clearly an area for him to train with his seidr and daggers, away from the display of the communal Avengers training room downstairs. One wall was lined with an array of bladed weapons for him to choose from, and the other had a variety of humanoid targets of different sizes for him to pull out. As I reached out to touch one, it glimmered slightly with golden runes, a telltale sign that it was enchanted to react with magic.

Fitting his typical taste, his living quarters were not open and inviting to the world, rather, only accessed through a door in the left corner of the training room that could easily be overlooked, opened only by a code entered in runes in a keypad.

“Hey, Thor!” I called. “What’s the code for his bedroom?”

“It’s Frigga,” he replied. “Do you know the runes for that?”

“I think so. Loki taught me.” A slight smile crept across my lips as I pressed the keys, the door unlocking with a click and revealing a large space that was living room and bedroom combined.

The living area was not heavily furnished, fitting Loki’s disposition against hospitality. It featured merely two armchairs seated on a handsome black rug, along with a small nook of a bar tucked into one of the walls, decorated with four elegant glasses and a couple of different decanters.

A short bookshelf sat at the arm of one of the chars, only a bit taller than my knees, clearly meant only for the books Loki would bring when he visited. Further off than that was a large, polished desk, all clean and tidy. The only things resting on the surface were two picture frames: the first displaying one of our engagement photos, portraying the two of us locked in a tender embrace with my head on his chest, and the second a miniature of a beloved portrait in the Asgardian palace, featuring Thor and Loki as children, their arms affectionately draped across Frigga.

The frames had not one speck of dust on them, so I knew the room must be cleaned often, and the pictures had great care taken of them. As I mounted the small set of stairs that led to the gargantuan bed and plopped down on the plush mattress, I wondered if Thor had a portrait of Frigga for himself, or if he came into his brother’s room for reminiscence. I was just contemplating how he managed to make a copy of the portrait when I was roused from my musings by a knock on the door.

“Camryn?” Thor called. “Are you settling in alright?”

“Yeah,” I replied. “You can come in if you’d like.”

There was a pause as the sound of muffled beeping signaled Thor entering the access code, and he swung the door open and leaned against the frame.

“Did you design this room yourself?” I asked.

“I did,” he answered, giving the space a once-over. “Do you like it?”

“I love it. It’s as if Loki set it up himself.”

“Well, it’s not as grand as he’d prefer, I know that much, but I did my best.”

“He’ll live,” I giggled, then gestured to an armchair, rising to occupy one myself. “Come on, sit down. I want to talk to you about something.”

“What concerns you?” he queried, complying and welcoming Bellatrix onto his lap.

“Well, it’s not so much a concern as a curiosity,” I began. “Pepper said you designed this room in the hopes that the two of you could be brothers again.”

“I did,” he confirmed. “It was a very dark time for the both of us, and I was beginning to think the Loki I once knew was lost to me forever. I wanted something to remind me of what we used to be before, and harbor any fantasy that our relationship could be good again, no matter how unrealistic that destiny seemed.”

“And do you think that fantasy has come to fruition?”

“I do.” Thor grinned broadly. “He is still very much the antihero, but I never expected anything less. He’s shown that he’s very capable of love and goodness through his relationship with you, and he’s proved that he is not inherently bad through his actions with the Avengers. I think the team is coming around and slowly starting to believe that the peak of his bad actions during the Battle of New York were truly the result of terrible outside influence. It’s going to be a lengthy process and take work on both sides, but I think the team will eventually stop antagonizing him. And, if the two of us work together, I think we can revert him to the state of chaotic goodness he had when we were boys.”

I beamed. “I’ve been working on him for years, and I’m just about there.”

“I can tell.” Thor rose to his feet and put his hand on my shoulder. “I’ve never told you this, and it is very late in coming. But ever since he started living here with you, Loki has morphed into a different person entirely, one that is recognizable to my memories. I wanted to say the most ardent thank you to you for bringing my brother back.”

I gaped at him as he slowly walked back to the door, tears filling my eyes at the sentiment. As if sensing the new tension in the room, Thor turned back to me just before exiting.

“Oh, and I also kept my brother’s penchant for cleanliness in mind when I designed his room,” he hinted. “As a result, his bath is the largest and most luxurious in the Tower. I suggest you treat yourself. It’s quite good for stress-relief. And, as I’m sure you know, being with Loki causes a lot of stress to be relieved.”


	16. Breakfast in Bed

The moment I woke up the next morning, I jumped out of bed and dashed to the medical deck to check on Loki. When I reached the door and took a quick glance in the window, however, I discovered that he was still soundly asleep, in a way that foretold his waking not being something that would come soon. With a bittersweet smile, I backed away, not wanting to disturb his rest. Besides, he had told me to sleep in, and if he found me by his bed at that hour of the morning, he would know I hadn’t and blame himself for my tiredness.

As I was forgoing my morning ballet class to watch over Loki, I texted Stellan to ask him to look at my schedule for the day and send it to me. I didn’t want to arrive at the theatre a second before I had to, and leave Loki alone in his state for any longer than was necessary. I still needed to warm up, however, and seeing as I definitely wasn’t going to be getting back to sleep, I had plenty of time to do so. In the hours I had spent in the tower recently, I heard people mention some sort of gym and training area, and I glanced at a directory put up next to the elevator to find out where it was. I felt a bit strange using it, as if I was overextending my welcome, but so far I seemed to be the only person awake in the entirety of the building, so I assumed nobody would even know I did so.

I hadn’t packed any workout clothes other than my leotard and tights, seeing as most of my warmups and athletic wear were already in my dressing room at the theatre. So, resolving myself to exercise in my pajamas, I threw my hair into a ponytail and returned to the room I had stayed in for a pair of tennis shoes before making my way into the gym, but stopping abruptly as I crossed the threshold and turning around to leave the room when the sound of a punching bag revealed that it was not, in fact, unoccupied.

“Hey!” the voice of Steve Rogers called out just as I was about to cross back into the hallway. I turned back around and discovered him jogging over to me, white t-shirt damp and hair sticking to his forehead from sweat.

“Are you lost?” he asked with a friendly smile. “Do you need me to help you find something?”

“No, actually, I wanted to come work out, but, um…” I eyed the highly advanced weaponry, impossibly difficult simulation-infused obstacle courses, weights beyond any normal human capabilities, and the countless other things that made up the training area, which was quite suited for superhumans, but not at all for me. “All of this stuff seems really out of my league, and besides, I’m probably not even supposed to be in here. This seems to be an Avengers only space, so I was just on my way out.”

“Don’t be silly. You’re welcome to use the gym! The normal stuff is just a little hidden.” Steve led me to the back of the expansive room, and to my relief, a long row of treadmills and ellipticals lined the wall.

“I was actually going to get on and run, myself,” Steve said as I chose an elliptical and went about adjusting the settings. “Do you mind if I join you?”

I invited him to go ahead, and he hopped onto the treadmill next to me.

“Yeah, I don’t usually run inside,” he narrated, answering a question I had but never would have uttered. “In the city, though, I can never get a pace up with all the stoplights and people, so this is just easier to get the workout I need without a lot of fuss.”

I nodded in understanding and we both began to move on our machines.

“How’s Loki?” Steve inquired casually, enviously unfazed for the mind-boggling speed his feet were moving at.

“I’m not really sure,” I answered. “He was still asleep when I went to check on him.”

“Well, I’m sure a nice rest will do him a lot of good.”

Steve and I resumed our individual workouts in an only slightly awkward silence, but he called out to me as I stepped off of the machine to go over to the line of mirrors set in front of the weights for a bit of Pilates.

“Loki did really good yesterday,” Steve praised. “The whole city owes their lives to him. The rest of the team would never admit it, but… we’re really grateful.”

“Thank you. I’ll tell him you said so, and he’ll be very happy to hear it, that is, if he even believes me.” I chuckled and blinked back tears. “That’s all he’s ever wanted anyone to say to him, you know. That he did well, and that his efforts were beneficial. Not just come straight out of battle and have someone list all the ways he could’ve been better.”

Steve was clearly unsure of how to reply to something so heavy, so I saved him the trouble by giving him a small smile and continuing on to do what I was going to. However, I couldn’t keep my mind focused on my exercises, because with all that talk about Loki, I was unable to think of anything other than him, wondering if he’d woken up yet. Eventually, I cut my workout short and returned to the medical deck, where Helen had arrived and was just exiting Loki’s room.

“How is he?” I pounced on her without any greeting. Being in her field, Helen was clearly used to this sort of behavior, and responded with a genuine smile.

“He’s doing much better,” she assured. “I think he’s in the clear now. I want to keep him a bit longer for some more fluids, but you should be able to take him home this afternoon.”

I chuckled inwardly at that. So far in our relationship dynamic, Loki had always been the one to take me home, never the other way around. I almost relished in the situation, for I finally felt as if I was taking care of him.

“Well, I should be back here at around 4-ish, would that be a good time?”

“That would be perfect.” Helen glanced back in at Loki’s sleeping form. “He should be waking up soon, and he’ll need food when he does.”

“Would it be alright if I made him something?” Though Loki would never admit it in front of the Avengers, his absolute favorite breakfast food was waffles, particularly the way I made them. I wanted to take full advantage of our caregiver/patient role reversal and surprise him with some comfort food.

“Absolutely. Any food will be perfect, just make sure he drinks a huge glass of water with it.” Helen patted me on the shoulder in passing as she continued on to her other duties of the day. I took one last look at Loki before returning to the directory I located earlier, looking for the way to the kitchen.

When I entered, the atmosphere of the space seemed much more like a family area than a refueling station for the Avengers. A coffee pot growled away in the corner, various cooking tools laid scattered about the counter space and piled in the sink, and the refrigerator bore all sorts of notes and reminders: invitations to events held up with Avengers magnets, a communal shopping list that everyone added to, a few candid photos, and various post-it notes bearing warnings such as “Anyone who eats my leftover nachos dies. -Clint” and “The leftover smoothie is mine- Steve,” which had a reply in a different hand, stating: “You don’t have to worry about us stealing those. They’re horrifically disgusting.”

In the center of all of that, the invitation to Loki’s and my wedding had been tacked up with glitter-covered magnets, which I assumed were chosen to draw attention. Pepper had attached a sticky note to the cardstock, her neat, compact hand reading: “We’re all going to this. No excuses.”

“For God’s sake, does no one around here know how to clean up?”

The frustrated comment startled me, and I whirled around to discover Stark in the doorway, wearing a pair of faded black sweatpants and an old AC/DC tour t-shirt.

“Oh, hi, Camryn,” he greeted, stepping over to the coffeemaker and pouring himself a cup with a warm and silly smile in my direction. “What brings you to the kitchen at this early hour?”

“I was going to make Loki some breakfast.” I scanned the cluttered space. “Do you guys have a waffle iron? I promise I’ll clean it up when I’m finished with it.”

“I will be forever grateful if you do. I’m sick of feeling like I’m living with teenage barbarians. I know it’s not the girls, because Natasha is so secretive in every aspect of her life, even down to her cooking, and would never leave anything out because of that, and Pepper is just a neat kind of person. That leaves the guys, sans me. Thor I sort of understand, seeing as he’s been raised never having to pick anything up because there’s always a servant around the corner to do it for him, but the others, god.” Stark rolled his eyes, bending down and retrieving the tool from a cabinet in front of his knees. “Here you go.”

I thanked him and went about gathering everything else I’d need for my recipe, watching out of the corner of my eye as Stark grabbed the pad of sticky notes and Sharpie from the top of the fridge and scribbled something down, pausing abruptly as he was about to put it up. I turned to find out what was the matter, and saw him staring expressionlessly at the invitation. I caught my bottom lip in my teeth, waiting for his reaction as he pulled it down and held it in his hand.

“Is this an invitation to your wedding, or am I going crazy?” he eventually asked.

“It is,” I replied. “I gave it to Pepper last night when you all were away.”

“Why would you invite us to arguably the most special days of your lives?” Tony furrowed his brow. “I figured that Loki would think that we’d, or more specifically, I’d, ruin the whole thing.”

“We debated back and forth for a long time,” I admitted. “Our ultimate decision was that you guys waved your permanent white flag by offering him the consultant position, so the invitation is us reciprocating.”

“I thought he reciprocated by accepting the position.”

“In a way.” I shrugged and inclined my head towards the invitation. “That’s Loki’s own way of saying he trusts you. Or, as much as Loki can trust anyone.”

“This little thing just got a lot heavier,” Stark chuckled awkwardly, pinning it back up. “I’d...I’d love to come.”

“We’d love to have you.”

Stark and I shared an intimate and meaningful smile before turning back to our individual tasks. Unable to revel in a heavy atmosphere for much longer, Stark lightened it with a comical groan.

“Today is going to be such a long day,” he muttered, gulping from his mug and immediately going to top it off.

“Busy?” I casually asked, whisking my batter.

“Yes.” Stark dragged his hand down the length of his face. “I have to go all the way upstate to oversee some construction of the new Avengers Facility, and then come back here and start drawing up contracts for new additions to the team.”

“New additions?” I raised my eyebrows. “They must be some special people.”

“They are, but I almost wish we’d never found them.” Stark rolled his eyes to the ceiling. “The process and legal matters that go into adding someone to the team are ten times more extensive than those for becoming a consultant, and you know how lengthy that was. We can’t start training them until we have the new facility completed, so you’d figure that would mean that the work to be done in that lapse is minimal, but we have to help their transition into this lifestyle and make arrangements and blah, blah, blah.”

“Who are these people that are so special they got invited to be a part of the Avengers?”

“Can’t tell you. It’s above your clearance level.”

“Oh?” I laughed. “Loki and I have clearance levels?”

“And don’t you forget it.” Stark pointed at me with a playful air of sternness. “There’s even one of our new members living in the Tower, but you’ll never see them.”

“Oh, I bet I will,” I played along.

“I almost guarantee you won’t.”

“Is that a challenge?”

“Maybe.” Stark winked and stuck a note reading “Here’s an idea: clean your shit!” to the fridge and exited the kitchen, leaving me in a fit of giggles that, when faded, left me with a strange feeling of closeness and friendship.

***

When the chocolate chip waffle came out of the iron, I topped it with even more chocolate chips, whipped cream, and warmed syrup- the Camryn specialty- and put it on a tray that was already equipped with a bowl of berries and a mug of green tea with lemon. Following Helen’s orders, I picked out the biggest cup I could find and filled it to the brim with ice water, then carefully walked the breakfast to Loki’s room. He was still asleep when I entered, but as I settled down onto a chair beside his bed, his eyes began to flutter open.

“Good morning, love.” I set the tray aside on a nearby countertop and stood up to kiss him gently. I could sense fear at his unfamiliar surroundings, but as he sat up further and remembered the night before, he calmed.

“Morning, darling.” He squeezed my hand, his strength returning little by little. “Did you manage to sleep in?”

“I would say yes, but you know when I’m lying,” I giggled. “It’s fine, though. I made you breakfast.” I placed the tray across his lap, and his eyes widened in veiled excitement.

“Thank you very much.” Picking up his fork, Loki stole a glance at the clock mounted on the wall behind my head. “I know you opted to skip your class this morning, but shouldn’t you be leaving soon to check your schedule for the day?”

“I had Stellan text it to me. I have a while,” I assured. “I only have an hour and a half of the pas de deuxs with all casts, a short run of Act I with my cast, and a private coaching session with Ulyana for the variations. I should be back here at around four.”

“Well, I suppose luck worked in our favor today.” Loki plucked a berry from the bowl and dragged it through the whipped cream before popping it in his mouth. “The less I have to be here alone, the better.”

“How are you feeling, though?” I inquired.

“Still a bit weak and lightheaded, but overall better.” Loki winced. “I just hate being so susceptible like this. It’s just another on a long list of reasons to despise what I really am. I hate being reverted to this state so easily, and the fact that this had to happen in front of them only makes it worse.”

“No one suspects anything,” I assured. “And they have no reason to, because even someone who wasn’t a Jotun would have this sort of reaction, considering where you went. Muspelheim isn’t just hot. It’s pits of fire and temperatures that can blister skin instantly, with no relief to be found. It’s hotter than any other place in the universe. Any being in the Realms, save the ones that are native to that world, would come down with dehydration and heat exhaustion as you did, if not worse ailments, when going there. You’re not weak, and I wish you would believe it. Besides, you’re always the one that has to take care of me, so I’m glad I finally get to take care of you for a change.”

“It was prophesied from the beginning that I was to be your guardian. That’s why I always care for you. The guardian isn’t supposed to be taken care of by the one they guard.”

“You would be surprised.”

Silence blanketed us after that, filled only by the sound of Loki’s utensils.

“I gave the Avengers our wedding invitation,” I announced suddenly.

Loki raised a brow, but didn’t look up from his plate, though his movements stilled. “Oh?”

“Yeah. I didn’t have time to tell you last night.”

“And how did they take it?”

“The ones I spoke to were actually excited.” I drew in a breath. “I think we can expect them to be there.”

Loki picked up his mug and focused his gaze towards the door. “Well, I suppose there’s no turning back now.”

“Do you regret me giving the invitation to them?” I worried aloud.

“No, but I would be lying if I said the prospect of getting this close to them didn’t make me uneasy.”

“Well, never fear. In fifty years they’ll all be dead and we won’t have to worry about them anymore,” I teased, drawing a laugh from Loki.

“Not necessarily,” he added with a wiggle of his eyebrows. “Thor will still be here then, and he’s the worst of the bunch!”

***

When I arrived at the theatre, I was surprisingly blessed with a rare day where I was able to focus on dancing and nothing else. In passing, I would worry about Loki, but he kept me updated with regular texts, assuring me that he was just fine. For once, I believed him, and went about my day.

When I returned to my dressing room once everything I was scheduled for was over, however, I remembered an almost halfhearted comment I made to Natasha and Pepper in that very room what seemed like so long ago. I mulled on it as I got in a cab to take me back to Stark Tower, and seeing Loki on a sofa in the lounge when I returned, chatting pleasantly with Steve, Natasha, Thor, and Bruce, I was sold.

“There’s something I want to do,” I announced as Loki and I stood in the elevator on the way down to the lobby, my arms wrapped around him. He was nearly at his full one hundred percent, but nevertheless I wanted to offer my help in case he needed it.

“I won’t if you don’t think it’s a good idea,” I insisted.

Loki looked down at me curiously. “Go on.”

“A while back, I told Pepper that the next time all of the Avengers were in town that I would host a dinner party with them,” I hesitantly continued. “It was a bit of an idle offer, but everyone’s here, and will be for a while, and it might be beneficial to see how our two groups work socially in a playing field that’s not theirs. I figured I’d arrange it, if it was alright with you.”

Loki inhaled sharply. “Well, they are going to be coming to our wedding, so you can go ahead,” he replied. “We’ll consider it a test run.”


	17. The Test Run

“What do you think a better theme for the dinner party would be? ‘A Night out in Paris’ or mythology?”

Loki raised a brow at me from where he was chopping vegetables for our lunch, giving me a vision of domesticity that surprisingly suited him well. “Where did mythology come from?”

I shrugged, absentmindedly stroking Henry where he laid on the counter in front of me. “It’s springtime. Every year when that time comes around, I always delve into my Persephone aesthetic. Besides, I’m kind of craving Greek food.”

“Alright, then.” Loki nodded agreeably. “Go with mythology. I admire Hades and wouldn’t mind portraying him for a night.”

I squirmed on my stool, halfway laying on the countertop, staring at Loki sideways. “Yeah, but I feel like the Paris theme is more formal and appropriate. And French food is good, too.”

“Then do that one.” Loki reached for a sweet potato, not looking up from his perfectly even slices.

“I can’t decide!” I whined. “Tell me which one you would genuinely prefer.”

“Both sound equally as wonderful, or as wonderful as a night with the Avengers can be.”

“You’re no help.” I slumped out of my seat and came around the counter to embrace him from behind, burying my face between his shoulder blades. “Please tell me.”

“Well, actually, I had an idea for a theme, myself.” Loki put his knife aside and turned to face me, resting his clasped hands at the small of my back.

“Really?” I bounced in his arms. “Tell me!”

“How about ‘An Asgardian Feast’?” He smiled with a glimmer of pride in his eyes. “We could have Thor help us a bit, and give the Avengers a taste of the culture in Asgard so they understand us and our ways better.”

“Oh my god, Loki!” I squealed and reached up to kiss him in excitement. “That’s great! We have to do that one.”

“I’m glad you like it.” I may have been mistaken, but I thought I noticed a flush creep up on his cheeks. “It might be a bit difficult to procure all of the ingredients, and we may have to make some substitutions, but I already know of a few dishes that we could serve, as well as some ceremonial decorations we could make.”

“Oh, that’s genius!” I kissed him once more. “What would I do without you?”

“Your life certainly wouldn’t be as interesting, that’s for sure.” Loki playfully tapped my nose. I scrunched it in response and giggled before slithering out of his grasp and bounding towards the bedroom.

“Where are you going?” he called after me, opening his arms as if commanding me to run right back into them.

“I’ve got a wonderful idea for the invitations,” I replied over my shoulder. “I need to get it down on paper somewhere before I forget. What’s the proper Asgardian address format again?”

***

“I hope that the wardrobe guide I sent with the invitations didn’t seem rude or snobby or anything,” I fretted, securing the final braid of my traditional hairstyle. “I just wanted them to really experience the atmosphere, and dinner parties usually have some sort of dress code, so…”

“I’m sure you came off just fine. Stop worrying yourself sick.” Loki came up behind me, zipping my dress and placing a tender kiss on my shoulder. “Do you want to go take a last-minute look at the decor?”

I heaved a sigh that was a mix of anxiety and relief. “Yes, please.”

Before we made our way into the hallway, I paused in front of the mirror, straightening my skirt and checking my appearance for any fixable flaws. I had chosen to wear a golden evening gown with a wide halter neckline, and I accessorized with heavy gold jewelry, including arm cuffs and golden rings that Loki helped me braid into my hair. Altogether, my outfit was an Earthly version of what was commonly worn to banquets in Asgard, and Loki had donned a simpler version of his armor for the occasion.

In the wardrobe guide I sent with the invitations, I advised our guests to dress similarly, and to place emphasis on a lot of leather, metal, and flowing fabrics, and sent Thor out with the task of helping them achieve that. Praying that everyone wouldn’t just show up in suits and make me and Loki look like fools in our otherworldly garb, I made my way to the kitchen, the smell of what I considered to be home filling my nostrils.

It had taken nearly an entire day for me, Loki, and Thor to put together a menu that would reflect traditional cuisine on Asgard with foodstuffs found on Midgard, and another several hours running around New York to collect all of the supplies. The spiced wine mulling on the stove fragranced the whole house and gave it the feel of autumn despite the fact that it was the middle of April, and the pork we substituted for boar had my mouth watering. The menu also included an array of baked fruits, a pumpkin soup, an apple cake, along with numerous other things, and I was glad that our guests would have no idea if the recipes were accurate, so I only had to worry about the dishes being delicious.

After fiddling with some settings on the stove and putting a loaf of bread in the oven to be warmed, I followed Loki into the dining room to perfect the setup one last time. Again, our decor for the night was a task that required hours in our storage room and another full day of shopping to gather everything we needed.

Our house had many places to dine in, but Loki and I usually ate in the breakfast nook or at a small, intimate table next to a window in the sitting room. However, for the event we had utilized our largest dining room, which boasted a table that sat eighteen with plenty of room to spare. All around the walls we had hung golden draperies to give the illusion of the inside of the palace of Asgard, and a similarly colored fabric was draped over the dining table, for the Victorian-styled piece didn’t reflect the boxy furniture found on Asgard.

From directly above the table we had removed our usual chandelier and replaced it with an antique one from medieval times, that when purchasing we nearly gave the curator a heart attack when we told her we were actually planning to use it. Loki went to light its candles and I straightened the ornate bowls of fat, red grapes and gourds that made up the table decorations. It turned out that it was nearly impossible to find gourds in the middle of spring, so instead of adding that to the list of our wild goose chase shopping trip, Loki merely conjured some, and made them particularly beautiful, with swirling vines that draped all the way over the sides of the table and curled onto the floor.

“This dinner party has me in trouble,” I murmured as Loki passed me to light the candles that sectioned off the table. “It’s got me in such an autumn mood.”

“I’m feeling that effect, as well,” Loki agreed, admiring at our handiwork and wrapping his arm around my waist. “Though I’d hardly call it trouble. You know that if we had our wish, it would be perpetually autumn.”

“Just with slightly warmer temperatures for me,” I teased, brushing imaginary dust off of one of the napkins resting atop the plates in their engraved holders. “Loki, are you sure I arranged the place settings correctly?”

“They’re perfect,” he assured, kissing my temple before breezing to the other side of the room. “Stop fretting and come sit down for a bit before the guests arrive and you get all fluttery again. You’re going to exhaust yourself if you don’t.”

“Oh, alright.” I frowned in compliance, but still had to approach the table to push one last plate a millimeter more into place. We had originally planned on using our Thanksgiving china for the event to match the decor, but after remembering that we wanted to replicate an Asgardian feast and not have an autumn fest, Loki and I decided to go out hunting for new dishes for the night. After even more searching and a hefty sum, we had gold-colored china and brassy flatware, as close to what could be found on Asgard as possible. I took one last critical glance at our little portal to another world before joining Loki in the sitting room, where we barely settled down into chairs before the doorbell rang.

My stomach dropped as I jumped to my feet, dashing to the landing to let the guests in, but they turned out to only be Stellan and his two younger brothers, Luca and Teo. Since Stellan was the only one outside of my family briefed on Loki’s true identity, and since his family owned a high-class restaurant in town that all three brothers had worked for at one point or another, Loki and I figured that they would be the best candidates to come and be our waiters for the night.

“Hello, Camryn!” he greeted with a wide grin, bending down to hug me. “The place looks really spectacular.”

“Thanks, Stellan.” I patted his back and waved to Teo and Luca. “Thanks for doing this on your night off.”

“Oh, it’s my pleasure.” He reached down to pick up Bellatrix from where she was languidly rolling atop his shoes. “Bella and I go way back, so when I’m not waiting the table we can have some good catch-up time. And where’s Sir Henry?”

“He’s moping in our bedroom like he always does when we have company.” I rolled my eyes. “But if you guys’ll follow me to the guest bedroom, I have your outfits in there.”

On Asgard, servants typically wore arduous robes, but Loki and I made the express decision that even with the atmosphere we had created, the typical servant garb would look ridiculous. Instead, we procured sturdy brown pants and white tunics, along with some leather overlays that gave the effect we were aiming for.

As the boys were changing, the trio of lute players that we hired for the night arrived, and they set up in the corner of the dining room while I was briefing Stellan, Teo, and Luca on the dishes for the night and how to serve them. After one last meticulous sweep of the area of the penthouse we’d be entertaining in, Loki convinced me that there was nothing more that I could do, and urged me to sit next to him and wait for the first guests to arrive at last.

“Are you sure this dinner party is a good idea?” I worried, tugging at a hangnail with my teeth and shifting on the sofa.

“It’s a bit late to go back on that decision, isn’t it?” Loki replied with a raised brow, but rubbed my back reassuringly, tugging me closer to him and holding me tight to his side. “I’ll make sure everything is just fine,” he murmured against my temple.

When the doorbell rang, I sprang out of my seat once more, but Loki jumped in front of me before I could make another move, putting his hands on my shoulders and staring deeply into my eyes as he always did when he wanted to calm me.

“I’ll get it,” he insisted, squeezing my arms gently. “It’s likely just Thor. He’s coming early, remember?”

I nodded, letting out a breath and merely trailing along behind as Loki went to let his brother in. Thor arrived dressed in a simpler version of his ceremonial armor, much like Loki was, and bore a bottle of mead for the party.

“Don’t tell me this is one of the bottles you took from Asgard’s royal stores before you came to live on Earth,” Loki declared, popping the top off and peering inside.

“It is, and I only have three of them left, excluding that one.” Thor snatched the mead back. “This party had better be good, if I’m going to be giving up one of my precious remaining bottles of the finest Asgardian mead ever tasted.”

“Hey!” I protested, coming around from behind Loki and giving Thor a playful shove that, of course, didn’t even cause him to bobble in the slightest. “Are you doubting my skills?’

“Absolutely not, Camryn. I’m merely making a jest between brothers.” Thor patted my shoulder. “If I didn’t have faith that your party would be wonderful, I wouldn’t have brought the mead in the first place. The little I’ve seen of your show for tonight is fantastic, and I can’t wait to see more.”

“Thank you for saying so, but don’t scare me like that!” I reprimanded. “I’m stressed enough as it is.”

“My deepest apologies.” Thor cradled the mead like a baby. “Where might I put this? And where are the cats?”

“I’m throwing what might be the best dinner party of my life and all anyone cares about is the cats. I would scold you, but I relate.” I nodded my head towards the hall. “I’ll take you to put the drink in the kitchen. Stellan’s in there, so at least Bellatrix should be in there, too. You’ll have a contender for her attention tonight.”

“A most honorable challenge that I humbly accept,” Thor played along, bowing his head nobly.

Once Thor dropped his mead off and got his desired greeting from Bellatrix, I sent Teo off to answer the door and had Luca follow us into the sitting room with a tray of drinks, waiting yet again for the rest of the guests to arrive.

“Thor, they are coming, right?” I inquired, bouncing my leg up and down.

“They are, and I promise they’re not planning any tricks,” he assured, selecting a goblet of wine. “Relax.”

Loki rose from the couch and approached Luca, taking a glass and passing it to me.

“Everything will be fine, love,” he assured. “Besides, is anyone but the three of us going to be able to judge the accuracy of the night?”

“It’s not the accuracy I’m worried about,” I muttered into my glass, but took a sip and pretended to be pacified, sitting back and waiting for whomever our first true arrival would turn out be.

It ended up being Steve, who knocked on the front door at the exact arrival time listed on the invitation. Teo showed him into the sitting room, and Loki and I rose to greet him.

“Thank you so much for coming.” I gave him a slightly awkward hug and Loki shook his hand stiffly. “Why don’t you take a seat, and have some wine?”

“There’s no need to be so formal,” Steve assured with a chuckle, but obeyed my instructions nonetheless. “Your penthouse is amazing. Does it always look like this?”

“In the autumn,” I replied. “The current decor is special for tonight’s event, to really give the illusion of being on Asgard.”

“I see. Well, it’s really nice.” Steve took another once-over of the room, sliding his hands into his pockets. “I feel a bit underdressed, though. Thor and Loki are in their armor and you’re in that dress...The wardrobe guide you sent mentioned leather and neutral colors…”

“What you’re wearing is perfect,” I assured, appraising his dark brown pants and beige button-down, trying my hardest to resist the possessive embrace Loki pulled me into as Steve’s eyes passed over me.

“I’m glad.” Steve glanced at the clock on the wall. “Banner was right behind me, so he should be here soon.”

The words had barely left his mouth when the doorbell rang, and Teo entered the sitting room with Bruce in tow, along with Natasha and Clint. Luca served them their drinks and, seeing as most of our guests had arrived, I sent him into the kitchen to fetch the hors d'oeuvres.

“Clint and I were already going to carpool, and we met Bruce in the lobby,” Natasha explained before I could ask how the three of them ended up arriving together, plopping down on the sofa with her drink and straightening her beige gown. “You’ve got a really gorgeous place.”

“Thank you. That seems to be the general consensus tonight.” I fidgeted awkwardly, wishing I could sit but not wanting to do so with guests around. “Did you all make it here alright?”

“It’s a really easy ride from Stark Tower,” Bruce replied. He had dressed in a plain suit, though it was brown. “There’s a Metro stop less than a block away from here.”

“If you guys are all staying at the Tower, why didn’t you all come together?” I asked, noting the staggered arrival times and methods of our guests.

“Well, we knew Thor was coming early to help get things ready,” Natasha began. “Steve was the only one that left at a normal time. Bruce wanted to stay back to finish something in the lab, and Clint and I came straight from a mission.”

“Oh my god!” I exclaimed. “If you had to work tonight, you didn’t have to come.”

“Don’t be silly.” Natasha smiled warmly and took a sip from her glass. “We wanted to.”

“I’m glad we all did, because whatever’s cooking smells delicious,” Thor remarked. “When are we going to eat?”

“We have to wait until everyone gets here,” Loki spoke up with suppressed annoyance. “Does anyone have any idea where Stark is?”

“He left around noon to oversee some construction upstate,” Bruce replied, taking a bite from his smoked salmon crouton. “He should be back by now.”

“Oh, really?” Something bumped the back of my knees and I glanced behind me to realize that Loki had pulled up a chair for me. I settled into it and took my own crouton from Luca, and held Loki’s hand where it rested on my shoulder. “What kind of construction?”

Bruce exchanged a look with Steve.

“I don’t know the clearance level for that info,” Bruce explained, brow furrowed in apology.

“Oh, Norns.” Even though Loki was behind me, I could clearly sense his eyeroll. “More about those damned clearance levels.”

“Be nice.” I patted his hand. “You have clearance levels for your important dealings on Asgard, even if they aren’t necessarily mapped out.”

“Perhaps, but I’m accustomed to being the one at the top of those unsaid levels,” Loki rebutted.

Steve cleared his throat to catch our attention and spoke up, answering Bruce’s question. “They’re consultants and will find out about it eventually, so we might as well tell them now.”

“Are you building a Death Star?” I cocked an eyebrow, and Natasha leaned across where Clint sat next to her on the couch to reach Steve.

“The Death Star is from-”

“Star Wars, I know,” Steve interrupted with a playful eye roll. “I watched them last week.”

“Just looking out for ya, buddy.” Natasha patted his arm and sank back into her cushion.

“Anyway,” Steve continued, “we’re building a new Avengers home base upstate. We’ve sort of taken over Stark Tower, even though it’s still the functioning headquarters of Stark Industries, and the location in the middle of the city, while central to a lot of action, is leaving us exposed and vulnerable, with little space to grow.

“Around the new facility, there’s hardly any civilization for miles, and the land we purchased leaves seemingly endless room for expansion. We won’t have to coordinate space and scheduling with the Avengers team and the Stark Industries team, the environment will seem a bit more homey, and some of our new members will be better protected and contained from society there.”

“Well, that sounds interesting,” I replied. “I’d love to see it someday. If it’s out in the forest like that, I bet it’s beautiful.”

“It’s quite, as the mortals say, aesthetically pleasing,” Thor put in. “I feel very calmed inside the building.”

“And I’m sure you all need that, with all the high-stress work you do,” I said. “You should get Tony to put in a spa.”

Natasha laughed aloud. “That would be the best.”

Loki cleared his throat, reminding us all of his point. “But his business should be finished, correct? It was possible for him to be on time?”

“It should have been, yes,” Bruce replied.

“Well, where is he?”

“The fun is here!” As if on cue, Tony Stark burst into the room with an irritated Pepper on his arm.

“I’m sorry,” she lamented, rolling her eyes. “I couldn’t get him here any sooner.”

“I had to make sure I was at my best for this royal soiree.” Tony pointed to the tray Luca carried. “Is that salmon? Lovely.”

“Was there trouble on your way over here, Mr. Stark?” Loki asked, his voice dangerously cordial. Tardiness was not something he dealt with well.

“No, not at all. Traffic was great, weather was great. Everything was great.” Tony went for some wine and Pepper sighed heavily, covering her reddening face with her hand.

“Then why, might I ask, are you arriving so far past the time listed on your invitation?” Loki’s voice was a mere note away from being a growl. I reached for his hand to calm him.

“Well, you know how I like to make an entrance, and I wanted to make sure I looked impeccable, and worthy of what Camryn listed on that charming wardrobe guide,” Stark replied, gesturing to his outfit straight out of Game of Thrones.

“I’m amazed you took it that seriously.” I took a closer look at his attire, marveling at the fine craftsmanship. “Did you have that made?”  
“Sure did.” Stark patted his chest proudly. “I wanted to make something matching for Pepper, but she said it was too much.”

I noted Pepper’s stunning rust-colored evening gown.

“You both look amazing. Everyone here does, and I’m so thrilled that you’re all embracing the theme.” I rose from my seat and gestured towards the door. “I’m sure you’re all hungry. Since everyone’s arrived, should we proceed onto dinner?”

The group erupted into murmurs of excitement and began to file towards the dining room, but Loki gently held me towards the back of the herd and bent down to whisper in my ear once we were alone.

“I know our alliance is budding, but I’m absolutely infuriated at Stark’s behavior,” he ranted.

“I know you are.” I rubbed his arm. “But this is supposed to be a test run for the wedding, remember? We need to practice being civil even if something bothers us.”

“I understand, love.” He kissed the top of my head gently but insistently. “But if he tries to ‘make an entrance’ like that at our wedding, I’ll kill him.”

“Oh, believe me.” I took Loki’s hand and pulled him towards the dining room. “If he does that at our wedding, I’ll get to him first.”

When we entered the warm, candlelit dining room, I checked that every guest had found their place card and motioned for the musicians in the corner to begin playing. Luca passed out fresh goblets and Stellan entered with the first course as Loki and I made for the opposite heads of the table to deliver the toast.

“The music is a very nice touch,” Natasha praised, raising her glass in my direction. “I like it.”

“I’m glad you do,” I replied, then cleared my throat to address the room. “Welcome, everyone. I’m so honored that you’ve taken time out of your busy and important schedules to attend this party. Now, I know I’m usually the bridge between you and Loki, but tonight is another effort to make it so that a bridge is no longer needed. So, since our party is to replicate a traditional feast on Asgard, and he’s the one that actually grew up there, I’ll turn the floor over to him.”

Loki locked eyes with me and nodded once, clearing his throat before speaking, effortlessly capturing everyone’s undivided attention.

“Feasts are incredibly common on Asgard. To me and Thor, the spread before you seems an ordinary morning, midday, or evening meal. However, since this is a special event, I wanted to have a special banquet.

“There are many reasons for special feasts to be held on Asgard. A holiday, the returning of soldiers from war, a funeral, et cetera, but I decided that Camryn and I should host a dinner party best compared to a peacemaking or ambassador banquet, for often a major point of those dinners is to show off the culture of Asgard. That was the goal of the theme for tonight, and since every meeting between me and the Aveners is a peacemaking mission, I figured that no feast template could be better.”

Loki gestured to the corner where Stellan stood in his costume, now flanked by Teo and Luca.

“That young man over there is Stellan, and I’m sure you recognize Teo and Luca from earlier this evening. They will be serving you tonight. Now, I’m sure you’re all hungry, and the food smells incredible, so I will move right along with this introduction. Banquets such as this are almost always opened with a prayer to our gods, which is as good of a representation of Asgardian culture as anything, so I’ll get on with that.”

“Excuse me.” Steve politely raised his hand, ducking his chin sheepishly. “I thought you and Thor were the gods. What gods are gods supposed to pray to?”

“Excellent question, Steve,” Pepper interjected. “I was wondering that myself.”

“We pray to our ancestors in Valhalla,” Loki replied, a slight smile creeping onto his lips. “Even divine beings need guidance sometimes.”

“As for whom we pray to once we get to Valhalla, we have no idea,” Thor put in. “And we’re not sure we’d like to know.”

“The speculations we made when we were children only frightened us,” Loki added with a conservative grin. “Now, I typically pray to my mother, so it’s been awhile since I’ve recited a formal prayer like this, so forgive me if I make any mistakes.”

I bowed my head obediently, and I was happy to see that everyone else in the room did, too. I was a bit shocked that Loki revealed such a personal tidbit as coping with Frigga’s death to the room full of people, but I was glad to see him opening up.

Despite his warning, however, he recited the prayer perfectly as I knew he would. He didn’t pray in the traditional sense very often, but I loved it when he did, for the words spilled out of his mouth like beautiful poetry. His voice became melodic, and he often came closer to singing prayers rather than speaking them. I was completely hypnotized by the time he finished and continued the toast.

“Now,” he resumed in his normal cadence, “Asgardians are typically very bawdy and love their food, so the toast is kept short. To peace and friendship. May we make it and may it last.”

“To peace and friendship,” the room echoed, and as everyone drank from their glasses and took their seats, I got the feeling that, for the first time,everyone truly meant it.

***

Once the last course was cleared away and I felt incredibly bloated in the best way, I tapped on my glass with my knife to bring everyone’s attention. The sound wasn’t entirely necessary, for the conversation of the evening had been wonderful and typically involved everyone present at the party, but the action was something I had always wanted to do. Once Loki finished explaining the differences and similarities of Viking culture and that on Asgard and everyone’s eyes turned to me, I began my short speech of the night.

“Asgardian feasts are hardly ever just feasts,” I began. “As Loki said before, Asgardians are quite bawdy, and have a lot of energy, especially after being filled with wine. Feasts are typically affairs that last well into the early hours of the morning. Once the main meal is finished, there’s often dancing and singing and merrymaking, and a lot of the younger citizens will branch out to different taverns once the older attendees have retired. We, unfortunately, did not prepare for raucous activity, but to replicate the ever-changing scenery of an Asgardian banquet, we’ve decided to serve dessert and some of Thor’s Asgardian mead on the terrace.”

“He brought that stuff?” Stark gasped, dropping his hands onto the table, already a bit inebriated from the wine served with the meal. “Sign me up. Let’s go.”

With a giggle, I took my wrap from Loki and laid my head on his shoulder, leading the way out into the slightly chilly night air and onto the terrace that we had decorated just like we had the dining room, and lit with strands of fairy lights. Just like the New Year’s Eve party what seemed like an eternity ago, I felt like I had grown incredibly close to the people around me, and felt an enormous sense of kinship with them. I was sure that, like at the party, the effect was somewhat heightened by drink, but I felt that the new feeling was one that would stick around much longer.

The group gathered into seats around the fire as Thor distributed the drinks and Stellan passed out pieces of apple cake, and the conversation, which had been mainly centered around questions about Asgard, had no trouble picking up again.

“So, Loki,” Steve began, “you said that when boar is served at feasts, it’s usually been hunted and killed that day?”

“Yes,” Loki replied. “There’s no taste like freshly butchered boar, and unless there’s a siege in place, the royal family doesn’t eat boar unless it’s been killed that day.”

“Being royalty sounds like it’s worth it.” Natasha raised her eyebrows. “Thanks for explaining the whole boat symbolism thing, by the way. I never really understood it.”

“It’s my pleasure.” Loki smiled kindly, the mead making him a bit looser with his charms.

“This actually isn’t meant to be rude for once in my life,” Stark interjected, taking a bite of cake, “but do your horns symbolize anything?”

Loki actually laughed at that, and went on to explain without a complaint. After a long-winded speech about symbolism on Asgard that everyone’s drunkenness had turned into a stream of jokes by the end, Stark piped up again.

“I know it’s the drink that’s making me say this, but I think it’s important to be said.” He inhaled sharply. “Loki, after talking with and getting to know you tonight, I’ve decided that you’re not a bad guy. You’re different, for sure, but you’re not bad. You’re actually pretty awesome when you’re not trying to take over the world. I figured that you’d have to be to get a girl like Camryn, but now I really see it.”

“Thank you, Stark.” Loki squeezed my hand, and a small but genuine smile spread across his face. “Tonight, after getting to know you outside of the context of work, I’ve learned that you’re actually quite more brilliant and creative than I originally thought you to be. I may actually grow to enjoy your company, and dare I say, admire you.”

Stark put a hand to his chest, his next joke holding the tone of truth. “I’m so very honored.”

“I’d like to say something, as well.” Clint, who was usually so quiet but had become quite chatty and a jokester over the course of the night, stood from his chair. “Loki, I still don’t trust you. But if all of the people here that I trust with my life are growing to, I respect their decision. I feel that you’re deserving of it, and I think that someday I may come around on you.”

“Thank you, Clint,” I whispered as he returned to his seat, and for a few moments the only sound was the crackling of the fire as everyone processed the words that had just been exchanged, which bore the best kind of weight.

“It’s pretty late,” Bruce eventually said, voice cracking from the awkward breaking of the silence, “and I’ve had a lot to drink. I think I should go and make sure I can get a cab.”

“Wait,” I called out as he made for the door, then looked to Loki, silently asking for approval for what I was about to do. “Why don’t you...stay here?”

Bruce furrowed his brow. “Sorry?”

“Why don’t you all stay here for tonight?” I suggested shyly. “God knows we have enough room for all of you. I’m in the theatre tomorrow night, so I don’t have to go into work until later. We could make sort of a grownup sleepover out of it, and then go for brunch in the morning.”

Pepper cracked a grin. “That sounds like fun. Let’s do it.”

After everyone’s agreement, Loki and I dismissed Stellan, Teo, and Luca, and left Thor to entertain the group while we went to make sleeping arrangements for everybody.

“So, how about it?” I asked nervously as we stood in front of the linen closet, loading my arms with sheets, still in a bit of disbelief over what I had just done.

“You know, I’m actually feeling alright about it,” Loki replied, his bright eyes gleaming. “I’m still not too fond of the Avengers, but I think I might actually like them as individuals. I’m sure that, like at the New Year’s party, some of these feelings and progress are due to drink and will regress in the morning, I feel like they won’t regress as much as they did last time.”

“I’m so glad.” I dropped the sheets in my hands and hugged him instead, burying my face in his shoulder, breathing in his scent of leather and sandalwood and snow. “I feel like so much important progress has been made, too. I’m so proud of you.”

Loki pulled me closer, resting his cheek on top of my head. “I don’t think it will be a problem to have them at our wedding, now.”

“Absolutely,” I agreed. “We won’t have to worry about any fights breaking out or any trouble being caused. We can focus on nothing but each other, just as it should be.”

“That is, if your extended family can behave,” Loki teased.

“Hey, one thing at a time,” I quipped. “My family doesn’t have access to the arsenal that the Avengers do, so the Avengers took priority in terms of peacemaking.”

“But now that problem is solved.” Loki hooked his finger under my chin and tilted it up towards him. “And I’m glad for it. Truly. For the first time in our engagement, I can be completely excited about everything that’s to come with no worries about anything else. And it’s the most wonderful feeling in all the realms.”


	18. At the Ballet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reminder that Camryn and Pepper are not actually cousins. The fact that their last names are the same is only a coincidence.

“Mrow.”

Unsure if I had dreamed the sound or not, I rolled away from the sunlight streaming in through the opened curtains of the bedroom. Loki usually pulled them in the mornings to read by the natural light.

“Mrow.”

The paws that begin to knead my sides assured me that I wasn’t dreaming, and I curled even further into my nest of pillows and mimicked the cat’s sound.

“Mrrrrrow!”

When Henry’s fluffy belly covered my nose, I relented and rolled onto my back, scooping the giant cat into my arms and holding him to my chest.

“You’re such a baby,” I cooed, scratching under his chin. He began to purr, butting his russet-colored head into my hand. “Why don’t you bother Daddy?”

I glanced over and discovered that Loki wasn’t next to me, his side of the bed completely neat, as if he had never slept there in the first place.

“I guess Daddy’s not here, is he, Henry?” I swung my legs off the bed and stood up with the cat still in my arms. “Why don’t we go find him, hm? Let’s go find Daddy.”

Henry mewled in agreement, becoming dead weight in my arms and kneading his claws into my skin as a sign of his satisfaction. Tutting at his self-indulgent behavior and hoisting his bulk higher in my grasp, I began to venture around the penthouse to find Loki, following a hunch I had about his whereabouts.

Sure enough, when I cracked open the door to the pool room and peeked inside, I discovered Loki moving about the space as if hypnotized, occasionally ducking under and staying down for an inhuman length of time, the dark walls and bottom of the pool making his pale skin seem like a sliver of moonlight on the water. That ritual was one he did often: to de-stress, to clear his mind, to solve a problem, or even to connect with certain aspects of his seidr.

I admired his indescribably graceful movements and the rippling of the lean muscles in his back for a few moments, watching his onyx hair fan out behind him almost like a demon’s halo, wondering how a being so ethereal could even be real. When Henry started to mewl again, though, I tiptoed away from the door and slid it closed, not wanting to disturb Loki during the almost religious time for him.

“Let’s not bother Daddy now, hm?” I murmured into the fur at Henry’s neck. “Let’s go find your sister and get you your breakfast. How does that sound?”

I made my way down the staircase and into the kitchen, happily clucking at Henry the whole way until I noticed a figure sitting in one of my bar stools, my affectionate noises being cut off as I jumped and let out my signature shrill scream. The figure turned to me in surprise, and when I discovered that it was only a rather perplexed Clint, I leaned against the wall and pressed my hand to my chest, willing my pounding heart to calm down.

“Sorry, I just…” I bent down to briefly comfort Henry, who had angrily leapt out of my arms. When I stood back up, however, Loki was at my shoulder, a green glow fading from around his form, fully clothed but with dripping hair, a dagger in both hands.

“What’s happened?” He demanded, eyes boring into mine with burning intensity, not paying any mind to Clint. “Are you hurt?”

“No, Lo, I’m fine.” I rested my hand on his chest, feeling his accelerated heartbeat, catching my breath from my second startle of the morning. “I just-“

“Apparently I’ve committed a horrible crime by helping myself to some coffee,” Clint interrupted, raising the mug he was drinking from. Loki’s intense gaze snapped to him, and a muscle in his jaw twitched. I tugged at the fabric of his shirt, trying calm him, but even though his demeanor softened at my silent request, he still pulled me as close to his side as possible. I noticed Clint raising his eyebrows at the scene, and returned my attention to our guest.

“No, you’re totally fine. I just slept so deeply that I forgot you guys were here,” I explained. “We’re not used to having company, so it scared me to round the corner and see a person in my kitchen.”

Clint’s nose wrinkled ever so slightly. “You’re easily startled, I see.”

Loki’s grip on my hip tightened, and I felt his ribs expand along my back as he drew in a sharp breath. My quickness to scream at the top of my lungs when someone came up behind me unannounced was a quality he frequently teased me about, but the moment someone else mentioned it, he was ready for murder. I put my hand on top of his to stay him, giggling awkwardly.

“Yeah, I always have been.”

Clint took a sip of the steaming coffee and grimaced slightly. “I’ve got to say, this is a little strong for even me, and my blood is 90% coffee.”

“Oh, that’s Loki’s.” I waved my hand dismissively. “I don’t really drink coffee.”

Clint slammed the mug back on the bar, splattering a bit of liquid onto the eggshell-colored surface, and stared at me with wide eyes. “How can you not like coffee?”

“I know.” Loki’s grip on my hip loosened as he leaned against the counter, shaking his head slightly. He was always ready to be diplomatic when advocating for his specially ordered extra-strong coffee. “I’ve tried to convince her many times of how wonderful it is.”

“And I’ve tried to tell you that I like the taste, but the caffeine gives me a bad reaction.” I nudged Loki’s arm. “I always drink the decaf on the rare occasion that you get it. You’re just partial to the heavily caffeinated kind because it’s the only kind that will give you a buzz and you like the buzz.”

“Exactly.” Loki shrugged. “That’s part of the experience.”

“It definitely is,” Clint agreed, he and Loki sharing a glance of camaraderie completely contradictory to the murderous expressions they had been exchanging not moments before. Leave it to opinions on coffee to bring two people together.

“And is another part of that experience taking care of me when I have panic attacks from it?” I retorted, sticking my tongue out and approaching the cabinet to fetch the cat bowls. “I’m just fine over here with my tea.”

“Oh, Thor has your other cat, by the way,” Clint informed when he noticed me looking around for Bellatrix. “He said he was taking her on…a walk, or something?”

“Yeah, he does that whenever he’s over.” I giggled as I began to scoop out Henry’s food. “There’s a little walking trail and community garden behind this building. Bellatrix likes Thor so much that she just follows behind him, and Thor thinks it’s funny to watch her sniff the dogs and pretend she’s one of them.”

“What’s the matter?” A female voice interrupted the conversation, and Pepper entered the room with Tony in tow, both still in their sleeping clothes. “We heard screaming.”

“I just forgot that we had guests, and rounding the corner and finding someone in my kitchen startled me,” I replied, bending down to put Henry’s food bowl in front of him. He gave me an “it’s about time” look and began to eat with all the fervor of a starving person. I rolled my eyes at the sight before returning my attention to my guests.

“Sorry if her scream woke you, but I had to have some of this coffee.” Clint nodded to his mug. “I could smell the beans the moment I opened the cabinet and couldn’t resist trying some.”

“Is it really good enough to warrant frightening our oh-so gracious host?” Tony picked up the mug and took a whiff. “Well, it certainly smells like it.”

“I’ll make a pot.” Loki shuffled past me to reach his beloved siphon coffee maker. “After drinking Thor’s mead last night, I assume that everyone will want some.”

“Loki, while you’re over there, can you look and see if we have what I need to make pancakes?” I requested. “I think I might make a brunch for everybody.”

“Oh, Camryn, you don’t have to go through the trouble to do that,” Pepper insisted, settling down next to Clint on one of the bar stools. “We’ve imposed on you enough.”

“I want to. I am still the hostess.” I began to arrange ingredients that Loki handed me. “Besides, I don’t want to brag, but I make pretty good chocolate chip pancakes.”

“Oh, yeah, I remember that time when Loki stayed overnight at the med ward in the tower. You made him a waffle that looked and smelled absolutely delicious,” Stark commented. “Do you specialize in breakfast food or something?”

I opened my mouth to answer, but Loki was already replying for me, beaming with pride.

“Camryn is an excellent cook, but her sweets are the best.” He winked at me. “She’s good at breakfast food because she likes it so much.”

“You like it so much, too.” I stuck my tongue out at him, then addressed our guests again. “I’ve always said that I don’t trust anyone that doesn’t like breakfast food.”

“Well, I don’t think there’s anyone like that here.” Clint glanced around at his company. “I’m always up for some pancakes.”

“So am I,” Tony chimed in.

“Well, you’re all in for a treat.” Loki held up the pot of freshly-brewed coffee. “Who wants some?”

I beamed at the sight of him being a model host, knowing that just twenty-four hours ago he would’ve rather died than fill their cups, and six months before he would’ve tried to kill them if they dared to even set foot in our house. There were definitely still kinks to be worked out between Loki and the Avengers, and there always would be, but the progress they had both made was outstanding.

“Okay. I smell coffee and I need some desperately.”

We all turned to find out who the yawning voice belonged to, and discovered Bruce rubbing his eyes, sleep clothes disheveled and slightly greying hair a complete mess. He stopped in his tracks when he noticed the gazes trained on him, looking at us all with a disgusted expression.

“How are you all so…alive?” He groaned, running his hand down his five ‘o’ clock shadow.

“I had coffee, Pepper didn’t drink last night, and Tony’s used to drinking.” Clint passed a mug that Loki had filled over to Bruce. “Down the hatch. You’ll feel better.”

Bruce took a gulp and grimaced. “What, is this Asgardian coffee to go with the Asgardian liquor?”

“I’m making pancakes that should take the edge off of it.” I motioned to the last empty bar stool. “Sit and make yourself comfortable. There’s cream in the fridge if you need any.”

“No, don’t get me wrong, this is the best coffee I’ve ever had.” Bruce stared into his cup. “Maybe this time caffeine will actually work and wake me up.”

“I heard the word ‘caffeine’ and came running.” Natasha’s voice preceded her cheery entrance into the kitchen. She said a quick good morning to everyone before stepping behind me to pour herself a mug of coffee, leaning against the counter and motioning to my mixing bowl. “Pancakes?”

“Yup.” I added the chocolate chips to the batter. “I’m doing a brunch for everybody.”

“Anything I can do to help?”

“Um…” I glanced around the counter, looking for what needed to be done. “It would be a big help if someone could cut up the fruit, now that you mention it. And Loki, I just thought of this, but could you do that whipped cream you always make?”

Soon I had everyone working on one task or another, chatting merrily about the events of the previous night as they went until Thor returned to the penthouse with Bellatrix in his arms. Bella meowed happily as she bounded over to me and Loki, and Thor observed the scene with an amused smirk.

“I see that my brother and his fiancée have enlisted some worker bees,” he commented, crossing his arms over his broad chest.

“I’m not forcing them to do anything,” I insisted, flipping some pancakes. “I decided to make brunch, and they wanted to help. Except for Bruce, who’s suffering the hangover of a lifetime.”

“Ah, Banner!” Thor slapped Bruce’s shoulder. “I told you that you have to pace yourself with that mead.”

“Yeah, I’ll remember that for next time. That is, if I can handle a next time.” Banner smiled weakly, raising his third mug of coffee. “Cheers.”

“Are you sure you’re okay, Bruce?” I asked, pouring fresh batter onto the pan. “We can arrange a ride home for you.”

“No, it’s alright.” He waved me off. “Those pancakes smell really good, so I definitely don’t want to leave without having some.”

“I don’t, either. Do you have some sort of task for me, as well?” Thor came to peek over my shoulder, causing Loki to take a step closer to me, folding me into his side. Making a sound between adoration and exasperation, I pointed to one of our cabinets.

“You can give Bellatrix her breakfast,” I suggested. “She was gone when Henry ate.”

“A task I gladly accept.” Thor scooped Bellatrix up from the kitchen counter and knelt in front of the cabinet, reaching for the cat food. I giggled at Bella’s excited mewls for a moment before turning back to my pancakes, the flow of the room returning to its original state until Tony glanced up from the oranges he was peeling and scanned the area.

“Hey, has anyone seen Capsicle?” he inquired. Most of the room’s occupants shook their heads, noting the absence.

“We passed each other when I took Bellatrix out for a walk. He said he was going for a run,” Thor replied, brow furrowing. “Though he should be back now.”

As if on cue, my phone started to vibrate, Steve’s contact flashing on the caller ID.

“Found him,” I announced, answering the call and putting it on speaker, everyone crowding around to hear. “Hey, Steve, where are you?”

“Your doorman won’t let me in,” he grumbled, voice barely audible. Bruce and Clint exchanged a look.

“What did he say?” Clint whispered.

I cleared my throat. “Pardon?”

“I’ve been out here for the past fifteen minutes arguing with your doorman because he won’t let me on the elevator to get back to your place,” Steve repeated, louder that time.

“Okay, well, which doorman is it?” I asked, trying to ignore Tony, Loki, and Thor sniggering behind me.

“His nametag says Roger,” Steve replied.

“Ah, that’s why,” I sighed. “Alan was the doorman last night, and I told him about the company I was having and left your names with him. Roger, though, is a stickler for the rules, and your names weren’t left with him, so there’s not a chance he’d let you up, whether you stayed the night or not.”

“Well, how am I supposed to get back?” Steve demanded, his tone seeped in panicked annoyance.

“I’m in the middle of making brunch, so I’ll send Loki down after you.” I hung up the call and glanced over at Loki, who had gone back to work on his whipped cream. “Okay, Lo?”

Loki rolled his eyes and switched off the hand mixer he had just picked up. “I suppose. Don’t let Thor eat any of my cream.”

“Come now, brother. What’s the issue?” Thor stepped away from the small crowd that still surrounded me and my phone. “You have a peculiar talent for making whipped cream. Why should I not enjoy the fruits of that talent?”

“Because the last time you ‘enjoyed’ the fruits of my talent, there was no cream left to go on top of the pie it was meant for.” Loki tied his still-damp hair into a loose knot at the nape of his neck, making my heart skip a beat. “You can have some whipped cream on your pancakes after everyone else has gotten their portion of it first.”

“Oh, Loki, is that really necessary?” Thor protested.

“Guys!” I held up my ringing phone. “We don’t have time for this. We’ve got an annoyed super soldier downstairs.”

“I’m going, I’m going,” Loki assured. “Protect my whipped cream with your life.”

“Lo, do you really want your bride-to-be to die on account of a sugary dessert topping?” I teased.

“Good point.” Loki’s expression remained comedically stoic as he nodded towards the Avengers sitting at our bar. “Protect it with their lives.”

“You got it.” I flashed him a thumbs-up as he left the kitchen, relishing my guests’ slightly frightened expressions as I answered my phone. “Yeah, Steve, he’s on his way.”

Once Loki returned with a red-faced Steve, I finished the last batch of the pancakes as Loki and Pepper set the table, and the entire group crowded around our breakfast nook, smashed elbow to elbow. I happened to be sandwiched between Loki and Thor, and never before had I, a statistically tall woman, felt so small. There was a buzz of excited murmurs as everyone filled their plates, followed by a silence filled only by the scraping of utensils against dishes.

“You weren’t lying, Camryn,” Stark eventually spoke up, mouth still full. “These pancakes are amazing. And Loki, I have to say, I wouldn’t have pegged you as a chef, but I would gladly give my life for this whipped cream.”

“Yeah, you have to be careful with feeding us like this.” Natasha smirked, running a strawberry through the bowl of cream. “We might never leave.”

“Believe me.” Loki grinned wolfishly, gripping my thigh under the table. “Discomfort at things you were overhearing would make you want to leave come nightfall.”

“Disgusting, brother.” Thor cringed. “You’ve done that to me before. I’ll never get the sounds out of my head.”

A collection of groans and disgusted tuts filled the room, Loki shrugging and lamenting that Thor shouldn’t have overstayed his welcome, which prompted a good-natured spat about the ambiguity of the welcome that was extended in the first place. Pepper eventually cleared her throat, putting her fork down and folding her napkin onto her lap.

“Why don’t we change the subject to breakfast-appropriate conversation?” she suggested, picking up her glass of orange juice. “Camryn, thank you so much for putting up with us, especially when you have to work later. Just tell us when you need to leave and we’ll scoot.”

“Oh, it’s totally fine,” I assured. “It’s dress rehearsal tonight, so I don’t have to be at the theatre until four.”

“Dress rehearsal?” Bruce echoed. “We’re the Avengers, and somehow she makes her job sound a lot cooler than ours. I mean, she’s a ballerina.”

“It’s just Paquita,” I assured. “As far as repertoire, it’s not the coolest. It’s fun, though.”

“I’m sorry- Pa-what-a?” Stark squinted at me.

“Paquita,” I corrected, giggling. “It’s an old ballet. Russian choreographed in a Spanish style. A lot of elegance and showmanship.”

“Sounds cool enough to me.” Clint shrugged. “I might even like to see it.”

“If it was you dancing, anything would be worth seeing,” Pepper praised. “I’ve only seen you in person at that gala, but even there you were something special. I knew I had to see more, so that night I watched a bunch of YouTube videos of your performances. I couldn’t get enough.”

“Camryn onstage is truly something amazing to behold.” Loki’s posture expanded with pride. “It makes me wonder if she’s really human.”

“Loki, stop. I’m not that good.” I ducked my head, but Bruce was already talking over me.

“Oh, now I kind of want to see!” he exclaimed, and everyone murmured in agreement.

“Well, Paquita isn’t exactly a blockbuster. The audience of this one will probably just be patrons and ballet students. I’m sure there will be empty seats.” I pursed my lips, shrugging. “If you guys were serious about wanting to come, I could probably pull some strings and get you tickets.”

“Could you really do that?” Steve’s eyes went wide.

“Yeah, it’s no problem,” I assured. “I’ve pulled strings in the box office dozens of times. That is, if you guys want to come?”

“I already had tickets for a performance, but I’m not opposed to seeing it twice,” Natasha replied. “How about everyone else?”

Everyone murmured their agreement, and I blushed and asked Loki to hand me my phone.

“Does this mean I have to chaperone them the whole night?” he groaned in my ear as he did so, and I shushed him as I started to dial the box office manager.

“Don’t lie to yourself, Lo. You’ll enjoy it, trust me.” I stuck my tongue out him as I put my phone to my ear, sitting up straighter when the call was picked up, pressing the speaker button and setting it on the table. “Hi, Shannon, it’s Camryn.”

“Hello, Miss Camryn,” Shannon, the box office manager, greeted in her gravelly voice. “I reckon you called because you need tickets.”

“Yes, Shannon, I do.”

“Well, how many? Just one?” Shuffling papers could be heard over the line. “It says here that you already got your fiancé’s ticket.”

“Yeah, I’ve got some other guests that want to come,” I replied. “I actually need seven tickets, if it’s not too much trouble.”

“Seven?” Shannon screeched. “Camryn, I didn’t think you talked to anyone outside of the theatre. Who the hell are these seven people?”

The group sitting around the table started at Shannon’s high pitched tones, and I giggled awkwardly.

“Well, um… the Avengers.”

“What?” The shriek was louder this time. Bruce groaned and rubbed his temples, and Tony put his fingers in his ears. “How in God’s name do you know the Avengers?”

“You know Pepper Potts, right?” I fibbed, seeing as Shannon was part of the majority of my acquaintances enchanted to believe that my Loki was not the same one that tried to take over New York. “She’s my cousin.”

Pepper blinked in surprise at the mention of her name, and Clint raised his eyebrows at Loki, nodding in my direction.

“She told that lie without a moment’s hesitation,” he noted. “Was that something you taught her?”

“I’m proud to say that it wasn’t.” Loki straightened haughtily, lowering his chin. “That’s a talent all of her own.”

“That’s not comforting,” Stark commented, and I put my hand over the speaker and shushed them, waiting for Shannon’s spiel about how she couldn’t believe she hadn’t put two and two together to end.

“Yeah, Potts and Potts,” I played along. “I know that it’s late notice and I’m asking for a lot on opening night, but are the tickets possible?”

“For the Avengers, absolutely. You can come pick them up tonight,” Shannon assured. “I hope I get to meet them. I’d like to thank them for all they do.”

Loki rolled his eyes, Natasha clucked appreciatively, and Steve mused that Shannon was “such a nice lady”. I shushed again, motioning to my phone.

“No, thank you for all that you do, Shannon. I’ll see you tonight.” I hung up the phone and noticed the expectant expressions of my guests. “So, are you guys ready for the ballet?”

***

“And try to be nice,” I reminded from the bedroom, packing the remaining things I needed for opening night into my bag. “I’m not going to be there to mediate any fights.”

“Love, I’ve spent plenty of time alone with them before now,” Loki called from the bathroom. I went to lean against the doorframe, watching as he released his wet hair from a towel and reached into a cabinet, dress shirt clinging to his still-damp skin. “One could even say we’re on good terms now.”

“I know that, but I also know that things can change in an instant. They already have before,” I fretted, biting my lip.

“They won’t this time. You have absolutely no reason to worry.” He stepped over and ran his hands down my arms, giving me a long and tender kiss before resuming his position in front of the mirror, plugging in and turning on his mind-bogglingly high-tech blow dryer. My mood changed in an instant when I saw the sight, and I scrambled to get a photo of it that I had long coveted. He smashed his palm in front of my phone camera when he noticed it pointed at him, hiding the hair dryer behind his back.

“Camryn, if you post a photo of me drying my hair, I won’t let you orgasm for a month,” he declared, spraying a prepping serum onto his loosely curly locks.

“That’s a bit harsh, and seems like unnecessary tension to build up before the wedding,” I pouted. “If you’re so ashamed of your hair care routine, why don’t you just fix it by magic?”

“Because it looks better when I do it manually, and the process is surprisingly soothing,” he explained defensively, pointing the dryer at his hair. I giggled, running up and kissing him on the cheek.

“You’re so cute,” I cooed, stepping out of the bathroom and grabbing my bag. “I’ll see you in a bit. Love you.”

“Love you, too,” Loki called back. “Be careful on the Metro.”

“I always am,” I assured, dashing out of the bedroom. I knelt to bid the cats goodbye at the door before stepping onto the elevator, riding it to the expensively furnished lobby of the building, pushing through the revolving doors into the gradually warming spring air and making my way to the Metro stop only a block away.

After a brief ride, I arrived at the theatre, greeting the security guard warmly as he let me in through the stage door. Once immersed in the seemingly never-ending hallways of the world the audience didn’t get to see, I noticed an unusual backstage chaos as I made my way to my dressing room, with reception staff, stage crew, and dancers all running amok. I paused in front of my door to observe the scene for a few moments, trying to discern what was going on. No one was saying anything, however, so I dismissed it as opening night chaos and pushed into my little haven from it all. Once I had changed into dancewear and grabbed the proper shoes, I joined the chaotic herd and made for the stage to get a spot for warmup class, positioning myself at a barre near the front with Chantel and Stellan.

“What’s with all the craziness?” I wondered, bending over the metal rod to crack my back. “Everyone is going nuts. I know for a fact that they’re not all freaked out over Paquita.”

“You didn’t hear?” Chantel’s head snapped up from where she was doctoring a blister on her toe, doe eyes widening. “Apparently the Avengers are coming tonight. Everyone’s panicking over trying to make everything perfect for them.”

“Oh, oops.” With a cringe, I lowered myself to the floor and started to roll out my calves with a tennis ball. “That’s sort of my fault.”

Chantel gasped, then coughed a few times. “God, Camryn. You made me swallow my gum!”

“Sorry.” I offered her my water bottle, but she declined, pulling her legs underneath herself and leaning in close to me, eyebrows soaring into her hairline.

“You’re saying that you invited them? How do you even know them?”

“Pepper Potts is my cousin,” I replied easily, having been prepared for such a question. Stellan, who knew the truth about Loki, cocked an eyebrow.

“I wouldn’t put it past you to have a secret like that. You’ve always been so mysterious.” Chantel nudged my shoulder. “Why haven’t you ever told me?”

“It’s never come up.” I shrugged, fighting a grin at what I was about to say. “And while we’re talking about this, it might be a good time to tell you that they’re going to be at my wedding, too.”

“Shut up!” Chantel screeched, briefly drawing the attention of everyone on the stage. “How have you never told me that before?”

“I didn’t want to seem like I was bragging,” I improvised. “Loki and I wanted to keep the whole thing…well, low-key.”

“Nothing is low-key with you two except for your fiancé’s name.” Chantel pointed a pair of rolled-up legwarmers at me as she stood. “I’m going to go fill up my water bottle, but be prepared to do some hardcore explaining when I get back.”

As Chantel left, Stellan inched closer to me, leaning on the barre and resting his chin in his hand.

“So, I assume the rest of the dinner party turned adult sleepover went well?” He asked. “No one murdered anyone? Everyone still has all of their appendages?”

“No, it all went good,” I chuckled. “I think Loki and I are finally in the clear as far as the Avengers go.”

“That’s good. You two don’t need that extra stress.” Stellan patted my shoulder. “You’ve got enough to worry about, like, ya know, running a kingdom and stuff.”

“It will still be a few years before we get to that point,” I replied in a low voice, not wanting my colleagues to overhear anything about Asgard, despite the fact that enchantment placed on them would make them completely oblivious to it, regardless. My stomach lurched as I saw Chantel return to the stage, my mind scrambling to come up with inconspicuous answers to whatever she would ask me, but I was relieved to discover the ballet master walking up behind her, sauntering to the front of the stage to start class and save me from such a conversation.

After warmup class, a ballet class given onstage to prepare dancers for the upcoming show before the doors were opened to the audience, everyone dispersed much quicker than usual, forgoing their usual routines of sticking around and putting in last-minute practice on problem steps so that they could dash up to their dressing rooms and prepare for another event.

Since Paquita wasn’t exactly a blockbuster ballet, in order to draw in an audience as big as one for Swan Lake would be the company was hosting a pre-show reception and meet-and-greet - one that the dancers were required to attend, and one that Loki and the Avengers would be at. It was quite an annoying ordeal- having to get hot and sweaty in class; then having to make ourselves look presentable for a formal event; walk around and socialize when all we want to be doing is getting mentally centered for our performances, sipping virgin drinks and soda instead of alcoholic beverages; then yank our feet out of heels and into pointe shoes, turn our makeup into stage makeup, get re-warmed up, and go onstage after all of the nonsense. However, given my current situation, I didn’t mind going. Even though Loki and the Avengers were completely in the clear, habit dictated that I wanted to supervise them as much as I could when they were together.

I was the first dancer ready for the reception, but I didn’t wait for anyone to go down with me, and practically ran to the door that led from the backstage staircase to the lobby. When I pushed through it, I immediately spotted Loki in his sleek black suit, but my path to him was intercepted by Mrs. Travers, a batty yet lovable old woman that lived in our building with her husband, Reginald. She was a vastly wealthy member of the ballet board, and was infamous for crediting her influence as the cause for my success as a dancer.

“Oh, and here’s the lady of the night!” She tittered, scurrying up to me and pulling my head down so that she could kiss my cheeks, drowning me in the scent of her ancient Chanel perfume. “Camryn, you had best dance very well tonight so that you don’t get upstaged by those guests that you and your fiancé brought.”

I giggled nervously, glancing over her shoulder and scanning the lobby, the tension in my chest releasing when I spotted Loki, a passive smile on his face. “I assume you mean the Avengers?”

“Yes! They’re all anyone can talk about.” Mrs. Travers linked her arm through mine, tugging me further into the space. “Who would’ve known that Pepper Potts was your cousin?”

“That seems to be the question of the night,” I murmured, watching the pleasant scene from afar. The Avengers stood in a clump surrounded by a swarm of wealthy people “classily” fighting for their attention, which they handled with well-practiced ease. Loki stood slightly off to the side, his true association with the Avengers shrouded by his magic, letting the scene play out with an almost satisfied expression, occasionally sharing a word or two with Thor as he sipped a glass of wine. I dipped down to address Mrs. Travers, my mood considerably lifted.

“I see that Reginald is quite deep in conversation with Mr. Rogers.”

“Oh, yes.” Mrs. Travers clicked her tongue, pursing her wrinkled lips and shaking her head firmly. “I wanted to wait and be formally introduced to them by you, but Reggie just walked up to the poor man and started bombarding him with topics like the war and Germany. He’s probably vexing Mr. Rogers to tears. I’ve never been so embarrassed.”

I fought to hide my amusement, swallowing my laughter as I detangled myself from her vice-like grasp.

“I’m sure that Steve doesn’t mind, but why don’t you go try to pull him away while I catch up with my fiancé?”

“I’ll do just that.” Mrs. Travers toyed with the jewels at her neck, pulling herself up to all of her grand height of five-foot-one. “I wanted to speak to Stellan before the show, anyway. I’ll see you in a bit, dear.”

Once I was free of Mrs. Travers, I sidled up to Loki, ducking under his arm that was resting on a table, kissing his cheek.

“Hello, love,” I greeted as he jumped in shock, murderous expression softening to one of amusement when he realized that it was only me. “Is everything going well?”

“It is,” he replied, drawing me closer, sliding his free hand into his jacket pocket. “The Avengers, unsurprisingly, conduct themselves very well in social situations.”

“Ah, here she is!” Stark announced when he spotted me, opening up the small clump of people he was entertaining and motioning for me to come closer to the center. “The woman of the hour!”

“I’m not so sure about that,” I teased, taking a virgin Shirley Temple from a passing waiter, observing Tony’s conversational partners and recognizing them all as patrons of the ballet. Normally, their attention would be entirely trained on the dancers, but at that moment, they stared at the Avengers as if no one else in the universe existed. “The way I hear it, you all are stealing my spotlight.”

“Hardly,” Steve assured, and behind him I noticed Mrs. Travers pulling Reginald away, thin lips scrunched in annoyed determination. “Everyone we’ve spoken to has told us what a treat it is to see you dance. They’re all saying that they’re glad it’s you we get to see for our first visit to the ballet.”

“Oh, so no pressure, right?” I joked, taking a sip from my glass.

“Absolutely not,” Loki insisted, flashing Steve an annoyed glance that was gone as quickly as it came. “You’re always wonderful, no matter what.”

“Thanks, Lo.” I patted his arm. “You know that I’m used to pressure. But I do hope I’m up to the task of impressing you all.”

“Well, Thor, Stark, Pepper, and I have already been impressed by your dancing,” Natasha reminded, pointing at each of them in turn. “All you have left to impress are Clint, Bruce, and Steve, and they’re easy targets.”

“Hey!” Clint protested, crossing his arms. “I am not!”

Natasha cocked an eyebrow, putting her hands on her hips. “Yesterday on the way back from a mission, you delayed us ten minutes so you could watch a pigeon eating a churro.”

Clint threw his hands up in exasperation, and the socialites on either side of him exchanged confused murmurs. “Come on, though, you have to agree that that one was funny.”

As Natasha and Clint bickered over whether or not the churro-eating pigeon was worth stopping for, the argument having a brief intermission so Natasha could fix a death glare on a man ogling her in her black dress, shifting the fabric of the skirt just so he could see the outline of the holster strapped to her thigh until he scurried away, Pepper flashed me her usual apologetic look and pushed through the miniature crowd to approach me.

“Thank you for working this out for us.” She glanced back at Tony, who had moved on to talk to another cluster of patrons. “The team needed this- a fun night out without all of the world-saving responsibilities. And to get to know our new partners better.” She winked and squeezed my hand.

“Honestly, it’s the least I could do,” I assured, looking up at Loki, who was furrowing his brow at a story Thor was telling, no doubt internally correcting every fib. “You have no idea the stress you’ve taken off of Loki’s and my shoulders by accepting us with open arms.”

“Well, it was a process to get there,” Pepper admitted, “but we’re there. The dog days are over, and now we can move forward as a team.”

***

Spurred on by the audience’s applause and the relief of a finished performance, Stellan and I glided offstage at the end of the ballet, squishing our sweaty, heavily-breathing selves into a corner to avoid the stampede of corps dancers exciting after us, only for the majority of them to immediately reassemble back onstage for the bows. I grabbed my water bottle from the stool reserved for me as one of the night’s principal dancers and Stellan pulled a wad of tissues from the box on the stage manager’s desk, passing a few to me.

“That was good, right?” he panted, dabbing his forehead.

“I can never tell with the ballets that aren’t overly emotional, but I can’t complain,” I replied, shaking the cramps out of my feet and biting my lip, which was dry from sucking air through a smile. “The real assessment will be made when I see the reactions of my guests.”

“They don’t know anything about ballet. I’m sure they’ll tell you that you were amazing, because you always are.” Stellan grabbed me around the waist for a one-armed hug, crushing my tutu against his side.

“You’re still sweaty,” I giggled, pushing him away and putting my hands on my hips, resting them on the stiff tulle. “And Natasha Romanoff trained at the Bolshoi, you know.”

“Bolshoi, smolshoi. Everyone knows that Vaganova is the real top school in Russia.” Stellan stuck his tongue out at me, tossing his tissues aside and offering me his hand. “Now, come on. We’re about to miss our bow.”

I cracked a grin and allowed him to lead me onstage, the two of us greeted by a fresh surge of applause. We took our bows at the front of the stage, tears filling my eyes as they always did at that moment, then backed up to collect and lead the rest of the cast in the final reverance of the night.

“Look down there,” Stellan whispered to me as we all linked hands, and I followed his line of sight to just behind the orchestra, where Loki and our guests were placed. Loki, Thor, and Natasha were already on their feet, Loki catching my eye and winking as he applauded. Pepper and Tony joined them soon after, Bruce nudging a snoozing Clint awake as he rose. I fought the urge to roll my eyes at the scene, turning to accept the enormous bouquet of flowers offered to me by a girl from the school attached to the company, her face beet red. Giving the bouquet to the night’s principal ballerina was such a highly coveted job amongst the students, yet such a feared one. I hugged her and kissed her cheek, murmuring my thanks before turning back to the audience for one last bow.

“Here we go again,” I breathed to Stellan once the curtain dropped, handing my bouquet off to the stage manager as a stagehand opened the curtain for me and Stellan to make our curtain call. The group at the front whooped and hollered for me louder than anyone, and Stellan squeezed my hand before letting go of it so that I could take one last curtsy to my knee, locking eyes with Loki as I did so, with so much pride and admiration communicated in such a simple exchange.

“Well, it seems they liked it to me,” Stellan commented once we were back behind the curtains. “The Avengers could’ve brought the house down by themselves.”

“One of them fell asleep,” I fretted, thanking the stage manager that passed me my bouquet and making my way for the backstage door as the crew began their end-of-performance maintenance.

“Ryn, this is Paquita,” Stellan reminded, boarding the elevator with me and pushing the button for our floor. “Anyone who doesn’t know or appreciate beautiful ballet technique is going to fall asleep. You were amazing. I would know- I was right behind you the whole time.”

“Not the whole time,” I teased, pulling one of the roses from my bouquet and holding it out to him. “But you were amazing too, Stellan. Your variation was phenomenal.”

“We’re a partnership made in heaven,” he sang as the elevator opened, comically sniffing his rose as he descended the hall where his dressing room was located. “Move over, Kirkland and Baryshnikov.”

“First off, Misha Baryshnikov was horrible to Gelsey Kirkland,” I called after him, adopting a playfully stern tone. “And secondly, don’t let Loki hear you say that. You may not live to see the sunrise, even if he knows that you’re only into guys.”

“I’ll take my chances. Now go hurry so you can see him,” Stellan ordered before rounding the corner. I giggled and headed the opposite direction, opening my door and startling as I discovered one of the wardrobe ladies waiting in my dressing room.

“Hi, honey,” she greeted, beaming and rising from the sofa for a hug. “Haven’t seen you very much lately.”

“Yeah, you haven’t really dressed me since my corps days when I shared a room with a bunch of other girls,” I replied, setting my flowers on my table so that I could properly hug back. “Once I was promoted and got my own, Loki sort of took over from there.”

“I know. Not to anyone’s dismay, though.” She smirked, taking in the photos of him taped all around my mirror. “He is very attractive.”

“Yeah, I’m still not sure how I got him,” I admitted, picking up the frame that held one of our engagement photos. “He’s…more amazing than words can describe.”

“And so are you, honey,” she assured. “But I figured I’d come help out since he’s out front tonight. Come here.” She motioned for me to approach her and turn around, and she started to unhook the clasps of my tutu. “I hear that you’re the one responsible for our high-profile guests.”

“I am. And I feel so bad!” I exclaimed, chewing on a nail. “I feel like I caused a lot of people trouble, but they really wanted to come.”

“You caused the trouble of bringing in money.” The dresser patted my now-bare back. “I think you’ll find that those in finance will want you to bring them to every show to draw in other paying audience members.”

“Oh, I hope not!” I gasped, turning back around and holding my unclasped tutu to my chest. “They’re a lot of work.”

“I would imagine so.” The dresser chuckled along, shuffling over to the door. “I’ll let you get changed. See ya later, sweetie.”

Once I was alone, I slipped into the dress I had worn earlier in the night, jammed my swollen and aching feet into a pair of heels, grabbed my bouquet, and hurried to the lobby. Loki was waiting by the door when I pushed through it, and I immediately swung my arms around his neck, pulling him into a hug.

“You were spellbinding, darling,” he declared, kissing me softly. “As usual.”

“Only because you were there.” I replied, rubbing my nose against his and squeezing his waist before pulling away, glancing over his shoulder. “But where’s everyone else?”

“They’re waiting by the main doors.” Loki pointed in that direction, taking me by the hips and leading me towards where he indicated. “They won’t shut up about you. I will admit, I was getting a bit jealous.”

“Loki, come on.” I squeezed his arm as we came up behind the Avengers, all clustered together and chattering animatedly. “You know I would never leave you. Especially for one of them.”

“One of them what?” When Tony heard us approach, he turned around and looked me up and down. “By ‘them,’ do you mean your adoring fans? Because I think that’s what we all are now.”

“Oh, stop.” I ducked my head, shuffling my feet. “Surely that’s an exaggeration.”

The group broke out in insistences that it really wasn’t, but Clint’s overly emphatic reaction in particular caught my eye.

“Come on, Clint,” I scolded. “Stop pretending. I saw that you fell asleep.”

“Sorry.” He shrugged nonchalantly, dropping his act instantly. “Consider it official payback for your fiancé mind controlling me.”

Surprisingly enough, the comment didn’t immediately fill me to the brim with a burning urge to defend Loki at all costs, and Loki’s reaction was limited to a sharp breath and clenching his jaw. I merely kept my hand firmly clasped in his and pursed my lips, nodding and holding my free hand out.

“Consider it done; all water under the bridge now. Truce?”

Clint clasped his hand in mine and shook it firmly, a hint of a smile lighting up his face. “Truce.”

“Now that we have that over with, we should give it to her.” Tony nudged Thor.

“Give me what?” I queried, craning my neck to see over the group. Thor came out from behind Bruce bearing an elegant bouquet of irises, extending it to me.

“Everyone wanted to get you their own bouquet, but I told them that you would be getting an enormous bouquet from the company and that it would be overkill if we did that, so we decided to just do one,” Natasha explained. “Thor was the one that picked out the arrangement-”

“-Which he has a strangely good eye for,” Tony interrupted.

“-but we knew that we wanted it to be irises,” Natasha finished. “Because irises symbolize-”

“-friendship,” Loki cut in, sparkling eyes betraying his stoic expression. “As well as faith and respect.”

“Exactly,” Steve replied, locking eyes with Loki and sharing a heavy glance. “And we mean it.”

“For once in my life, I’m…” Loki chuckled, his gaze drifting to the floor. Thor came up and clapped him on the back, holding his shoulder with a loving firmness. “I’m at a loss for words.”

“How about that this is something to celebrate? We all look nice.” Natasha pointed to the door. “Why don’t we all go out for some drinks?”

“I like that idea,” Tony piped up. “What about you, Camryn?”

“That sounds great. There’s actually a bar within walking distance that the dancers always go to after shows. Say my name and you get a discount.” I adopted a strict tone, and pointed to Loki, Thor, and Tony in turn. “Just no drinking contests. Remember how badly it turned out last time. A drinking contest was what caused the whole mess that we just fixed.”

“Don’t worry, Camryn. It’ll be casual drinking tonight. Two drinks, tops.” Tony pulled me to his side in a one-armed hug, my fingers still intertwined with Loki’s. “But even if we did go for more, the accidental truth slip would definitely not be so negative this time.”

“I’m glad to hear that.” I patted Tony’s shoulder and detangled myself from his arm, motioning for everyone to follow me. “Let’s go, then.”

The group filed in behind me as I emerged through the doors, the constant buzzing energy of New York City seeming to radiate entirely from us and the serendipity that flowed through each of us in a closed circuit. I positioned the bouquet of irises on top of the one the company gave me, using my free arm to pull Loki close, pausing to take in his content expression, one I almost never got to see, before resting my head on his shoulder.

“Look at how far we’ve come, Loki,” I murmured, my gaze travelling up to the tops of the skyscrapers that surrounded us, wondering how something could be so far above us when our moods were so high.

“I know,” Loki lamented, his eyes adopting a far-off expression. “I’m actually excited for the future now. It’s a future I’ve always secretly wanted, and it’s a future that wouldn’t have been possible without you.”

“It’s the least I could do, though I didn’t do much.” I pulled out one of the irses and twisted it into his lapel. “You gave me the future I’ve always dreamed of, and I’m going to spend every second of it trying to make yours as happy as mine is.”

“You do that by simply being by my side.” Loki leaned in for one more kiss, but Stark whistled for our attention.

“Hey, lovebirds!” he called from behind us. “You’re supposed to be leading us to the bar, not your bedroom.”

“It’s right here, Stark. Don’t get your panties in a twist.” I rolled my eyes, positioning myself in front of the entrance and dramatically throwing my arms out to the side. “Come on, friends. Let’s go paint the town.”


End file.
